The Ninja Club
by Goddess33
Summary: Gaara dreams of a past that may or may not have occurred. When he attends a new school, he learns he's not the only one. Alternate universe story... kinda.
1. Case File: Gaara

All the world, for as far as he could see, was wind and sand and unrelenting fury. Gaara stood at the center of a whirling sandstorm, but untouched by its screaming presence. He knew it should hurt, knew the sand should sting his flesh and scour it raw, but he felt nothing. The desert sun was high above him, searing down at the sandy world, but Gaara could not feel that either. All he felt was cold.

At times he could glimpse through the whirlwind at the desert beyond. The rolling hills of golden sand were littered with bodies, hundreds of mangled corpses, silently screaming their death throes to an uncaring sky. As Gaara watched, the desert rose up and devoured them into its depths, holding them forever in a sandy grave. Gaara watched the golden desert swallow up the dead and felt nothing but indifference for so many lives lost.

He knew the exact moment when he was no longer alone. Gaara turned, and the wind died down, the sand settling gently around his feet. Watching Gaara silently, _he _stood there, elegant and ethereal. As Gaara was, he was untouched by the storm's destruction. His hair was long and unbound, the color of dark chocolate. His skin, in contrast, was pale, fragile-seeming. And his eyes were some indeterminate color, sometimes a pale lavender, sometimes silver, a shifting spectrum of icy colors. Despite the icy gaze, Gaara felt some of the coldness inside of himself give way to tentative warmth.

The pale-eyed man reached a hand out to Gaara, and spoke, though Gaara could not hear his voice. And then…

_.x.x.x._

And then the dream ended there, as it always did. Gaara became aware of an insistent buzzing in his ear, and he swatted at the alarm clock until he managed to knock it off the dresser onto the floor, where it clattered and finally went silent.

And so another morning had begun, starting as it always did with the dream. Gaara had been dreaming of the same desert and the same man for most of his life, and he had yet to delve out any kind of meaning from it. He considered asking someone about it, like his siblings, or one of the many therapists he'd been sent to, but always decided against it. They all thought he was crazy enough as it was; they wouldn't be thrilled to hear about the parts with the dead bodies. It wasn't as though he wanted the dream to go away- after so many years of dreaming of that man, he took some comfort from seeing him, night after night. Here at last, he felt he'd found someone who would never leave him. Even if it was just a figment of his certifiably insane mind.

Sometimes he felt the dream might be the only worthwhile thing in his life.

There was a soft knock on his bedroom door, and his sister Temari's voice calling out to him, gently, as though comforting a dangerous animal. "Gaara? It's time to get up now. You have school today."

"I know that," he said, but he doubted she heard.

Summer vacation had ended, and it was the first day of school. The first day at yet another new school. Gaara had lost track of how many times they'd moved, and how many schools he'd been to. They were all pretty much the same anyway. Nondescript buildings full of nameless, faceless people. Sometimes he just wanted to-

"_Kill them all."_

Gaara grit his teeth, getting out of bed. The voice was awake too. Like the dream, the voice had been with Gaara most of his life, as far back as he could remember. A voice that told him to do terrible things. A voice that called itself "Shukaku."

When he was little, everyone had just assumed "Shukaku" had been Gaara's imaginary friend. Other kids had imaginary friends, too. But Gaara soon discovered that his friend was different than theirs. His wanted him to do things, things that were bad. And it wouldn't leave him alone until he did them. When Gaara nailed the earthworms to the porch, that was Shukaku's idea. When he'd beaten his sister's pet mouse to death with a hammer, that was Shukaku's idea too. Setting fire to the couch while his brother was sleeping on it was at Shukaku's insistence as well. And when he was in kindergarten, and had stabbed the boy sitting next to him in the eye with a pencil, it was all because Shukaku had made him.

That was the first time they'd had to move, but it wasn't the last. Every time they moved, Gaara hoped that Shukaku would somehow be left behind. But the voice came with him, everywhere he went, and there were more… incidents.

He was sent to counselors, people who were supposed to help him control the voice. The first couple he went to see, he told everything to, hoping they would help him. He told them about Shukaku, and its awful insistence that he do things he knew he shouldn't, and how his head was filled with visions of blood and dying things, and some nights he couldn't sleep because of the screaming in his ears. After the fourth counselor prescribed yet another medication and sent him on for someone else to try and deal with, Gaara gave up even talking to them.

He learned that none of them had any idea how to make Shukaku go away, and that he would just have to learn to deal with the voice on his own. Ignoring it only worked for so long, however. Every new place they moved to, he tried so hard to be good. He could manage it for a few months (his record was nine), but finally the voice would get to him. Weapons weren't hard to find, even at his age; shards of glass, knives from the kitchen, pieces of wire, even rocks from the garden. He would end up hurting someone, and they would move again.

They'd just moved to this new town at the end of summer, after his attempts to drown a girl in the last place, and Gaara was due to start a new year in high school. He'd been prescribed a new medication by his newest therapist, one that everyone had high hopes would finally take care of his "voice" and violent tendencies. It might even, Gaara supposed, assuming he ever took the meds. Over the years, he'd also learned that the pills never made the voice go away. All they usually did was make him sleep more, which only seemed to make the voice stronger. So he'd stopped taking them.

"Gaara?" Temari called him to the present. "Are you awake?"

He scooped the alarm clock off the floor, chucking at the door as hard as he could. It broke apart against the door with a satisfying _crash._ On the other side of the door, Temari let out a startled squeak, then laughed nervously to cover for it.

"Well, I'll leave you to get ready then," were her final words before she made a quick retreat.

"_You know," _said the voice, _"that would be a lot more effective if you threw the clock at her _head_, instead of the door."_

"No one asked you," Gaara told Shukaku pointedly.

"_I know, and you should be grateful that I generously offer such advice for free," _it said. _"Out of the goodness of my heart."_

One of these days, Gaara promised himself, he was going to work up the courage to put a bullet in his brain, just to shut the bastard voice up. Until that day, though, he had yet another new school to attend, and he had better get ready. And who knew, maybe this time he'd manage to refrain from maiming anyone.

"_Or maybe you'll finally manage to kill someone."_

_.x.x.x._

After his morning routine of dressing in his new school uniform, brushing his teeth and flushing his daily dose of anti-psychotic medication down the toilet, Gaara headed out to see what new bloody perversity the day held for him. Temari and Kankuro dutifully dogged his steps, about three paces behind him, supposedly to keep him from causing injury to someone on the way to school. Not that they'd really have much hope of stopping him if Shukaku pushed him into it.

The sun was out, the season still clinging desperately to the last remnants of summer. Strangely, this soothed Gaara somewhat. Summer was his favorite season. The parched heat seemed to suit him. Several years back, one of the towns they'd lived in had been on the outskirts of several miles of desert. The voice had been somewhat easier to deal with during that period, and he'd had several almost peaceful months before Shukaku had made him beat a boy with a crowbar. To this day, he still carried a plastic soda bottle full of that desert's sand in his backpack. It wasn't much of a good luck charm, but it made him feel better to have it.

There was a crowd outside of the new school, with students reluctant to leave behind the freedom of summer to resign themselves to yet another school year of drudgery. Gaara moved through the crowds as though they did not exist. No one talked to him, no one touched him. They had their own friends already, and Gaara was just an unknown face in the crowds. He was a nobody here, as he was at every school. That suited him fine. If they ignored him, he could ignore them. And if he could ignore them, he might not be forced to hurt them.

"_Wishful thinking,"_ Shukaku informed him. _"Why bother going through with this farce? You know you can't deny me. How about I pick you out a victim right now? I can have you kicked out of this school before lunch." _

"Don't," Gaara whispered, ignoring the curious looks he got from other students as he walked past them, entering the building. At this point in his life, being thought weird for talking to himself was the least of his problems. "Just don't. Just give me one day…"

The halls were crowded too, with students scouting out their new lockers, the quickest routes to their classrooms, the best vending machines. The babble of their voices was white noise in Gaara's ears. His gaze wandered over their faces dispassionately, wondering which of these smiling students was he going to hurt, what tragedy he would cause that would once more uproot his life and force his family to move.

Something, or more likely someone, crashed into Gaara's back, almost knocking him into the nearest set of lockers. He recovered his balance, turning to face whomever would be so stupid as to make him aware of their presence.

His gaze landed on a boy sitting where he'd ended on the ground after crashing into Gaara. The boy had somewhat spiky blonde hair, and he looked up at Gaara with startlingly blue eyes. After a moment's pause, he offered Gaara a toothy grin.

"Sorry, wasn't really watching where I was going." The boy held out a hand, as if assuming Gaara would help him up.

"_Him!"_ Shukaku snarled, the suddenness of the voice's rage making Gaara's head ring. _"Kill him! Kill him now!"_

The boy on the ground blinked, then helped himself up when it appeared Gaara wouldn't. He was looking at Gaara with a curious expression on his face, a mixture of surprise, awe, and excitement. "You're new here, aren't you? Can I talk to you a sec?"

Gaara barely heard him, as the blonde's words drowned out by Shukaku's snarls. Gaara took a long, deep breath, doing his best to ignore the murderous rage that welled up inside his mind at the voice's command. He'd hoped for more time, but he knew with Shukaku, it had been too much to expect. Not even in his new school for a full hour before the voice began its demands for bloodshed. He didn't know why Shukaku would react with such venom toward the goofy-looking blonde boy, but now that the voice had chosen a victim for its wrath, Gaara knew it would be best to stay away from him. Without a word to the blonde, Gaara turned from him and began walking away.

"Hey, Red, hold on!"

A hand on Gaara's shoulder halted his retreat, and he shook it off quickly. "Don't touch me!" _I don't want to hurt you. _"Just leave me alone."

There was a heartbeat of silence from the blonde. Then, "Like hell!" He grabbed Gaara's arm, all but dragging him down the hallway. "Come on, I need to talk to you."

So startled was he by the blonde's forcefulness, Gaara did nothing but follow in his wake, wonderingly. What on earth could the boy want to talk to him about? And what was with that weird look he'd given Gaara? It was almost as though he'd seen something in Gaara he'd not expected. But that was ridiculous. There was nothing to see there but-

"_Me."_

But the blonde couldn't possibly see Shukaku. Could he? No, of course not. Nobody ever believed Gaara when he told them about the voice. How could this stranger even suspect it was there?

The blonde boy dragged Gaara to the nearest classroom, and pushed him inside. It was a small room, and deserted. From the shelves along the walls laden with specimen jars, creatures and body parts long dead preserved within cloudy formaldehyde, Gaara guessed it was the biology room. Instead of daring to look at Shukaku's intended victim, Gaara intently studied the specimen jar containing what appeared to be a human heart. Shukaku didn't even make the expected comment about adding a few choice parts of the blonde to the collection; the voice was too busy growling like an animal in the blonde's general direction.

"I'm Naruto Uzumaki," the blonde introduced himself. "You have one too, don't you?"

"Have one what?"

"A demon." Naruto watched Gaara with unashamed excitement. "I've never met somebody else that had one too, but Kyuubi always said there were others…"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gaara said, trying to gauge a safe way around Naruto and out the door before the blonde could catch him. This kid was obviously as crazy as he was. And if Naruto did hear a voice, and that voice was anything like Shukaku, this "Kyuubi" could very well have picked _Gaara_ as its next victim.

"That's funny," Naruto was saying, not looking in the least bit like he was considering committing bodily harm. He looked a little confused. "Kyuubi said he recognized you and your demon. You sure you don't have one?"

"_Go ahead,"_ said Shukaku snidely. _"Make the introductions. Preferably, something sharp and pointy introduced right into that ugly fox face of his!"_

"It's… he's…" Gaara shook his head. "Shukaku's not a demon. He's just… the voice inside my head."

"Right, Shukaku!" Naruto nodded wisely. "Kyuubi couldn't remember his name."

_"He doesn't even REMEMBER me?! Stupid little nine-tailed shit…"_

"Look, Naruto, or whatever your name is…" Gaara said. "I don't know anything about demons or this Kyuubi or whatever you're babbling about, and I don't _want_ to know. I'm just gonna go now. Do us both a favor, and don't talk to me ever again."

"They think you're schizophrenic, don't they?"

"They think I'm a lot of things," Gaara said softly. "Schizophrenia is just the diagnosis of the week. There'll be a new one next Tuesday."

"And a new medication to go with it," Naruto said. "But the meds never help, do they? Shukaku's _not_ just a voice in your head. He's a demon, and he's not something your can cure."

"He wants to kill you, you know," Gaara said. "And I probably wouldn't be able to stop him."

"He won't find me so easy to kill," Naruto said, shrugging it off. "You haven't even told me your name yet."

"Oh." So few people asked for his name, he forgot to give it. "It's Gaara. How do I know you're not just crazy too? I don't even trust the voice in my head. Why should I trust the voice in yours?"

"It's not a voice. It's a _demon._"

"Voice or demon, what's the difference in what we call them? They're figments of the mind. You're just crazy, and that's all."

Naruto blinked wide blue eyes at him, then grinned toothily. "I can prove it to you."

"How?"

"I can tell you things. Things I wouldn't be able to know, but Kyuubi remembers. He knows you from before," Naruto said matter-of-factly.

"Before when?" Gaara asked.

At that, Naruto looked a little mystified, and shrugged. "Just… _before. _Before now."

"You have ten seconds to convince me. Then, I'm leaving."

"You like sand," Naruto said. "And you probably carry it around with you everywhere. You don't know why, but it's always been a weird fixation for you. Makes you feel safe."

Gaara blinked, and was intensely aware of the weight of the bottle of sand in his backpack. Naruto was grinning, an I-know-I'm-right-so-just-admit-it sort of grin. Gaara shook his head.

"I'm not convinced," he said, and walked purposefully out the door.

"Hey, wait a second!" he could hear Naruto calling out after him. But Gaara was soon lost amid the crowds in the halls, leaving the blonde and his weird talk of demons somewhere far behind him.

Demons, honestly. Maybe Naruto was skipping out on his medication, too. If Shukaku was really a demon, surely Gaara would be able to tell. Wouldn't he?

"_Just keep telling yourself that,"_ Shukaku said.

"You'd tell me if you were a demon, wouldn't you?" Gaara murmured out loud, ignoring the odd looks the students nearest him sent his way, carefully edging away from him.

"_Maybe."_ Shukaku sounded smug. _"You know demons require human sacrifices, right?"_

"Never mind," Gaara said in disgust. "Forget I asked."

He made his way through the hall's congested passage, to a relatively less crowded spot against one wall. He dug out the crumpled piece of paper he'd stuffed into his backpack, the one with his new class schedule on it. Class would be starting soon, and he'd have to find his classroom sometime before the bell rang. It turned out his first class was on the third floor of the school building, while he presently stood on the first. He had less than two minutes to find the stairs and make it up three flights before he was late.

Shukaku just laughed at him as Gaara pushed his way back into the crowds of the hallway, dodging around roadblocks of the kids too "cool" to move out of the way of traffic. He finally spotted a staircase, and was pushing his way toward it, when something else caught his eye and stopped him in his tracks.

Not something. _Someone._ Just a glimpse, but it was unmistakable. Someone with long hair the color of dark chocolate, and flashing eyes of some indeterminate, icy color. The vision was there only a second, before he disappeared amidst the crowds, supposedly on the way to his own class. Gaara stood staring, heedless of the rather annoyed students making their way around him.

"It's him," Gaara whispered.

The man from his dreams.


	2. Case File: Naruto

No matter which class he was in at any given time, Naruto spent most of the period staring out the window and wishing he were somewhere else. It wasn't that he didn't like school- he really did. He even tried listening to the teachers most of the time. But inevitably, his attention would drift from the lectures of geometry or history or whatever, and he'd find himself once more admiring the sunshine, with his thoughts miles away from where they ought to be.

Currently, his thoughts were on the red-headed boy he'd met that morning, whether he'd ever run into him again, and if not, the best ways of tracking him down.

"_Won't be that hard,"_ Kyuubi pointed out in that oh-so-authoritative way of his. _"It's not that big a school. It'd be a wasted effort though. I don't think he's going to listen to you. _I_ wouldn't even listen to you if I weren't stuck in your head."_

"_Don't lie; you know you like me," _Naruto retorted.

"_I'll admit to no such thing,"_ the demon said loftily. _"I don't know why you're so determined to track down that Gaara, anyway. _He_ seems determined to avoid us, and it's for the best. You know Shukaku isn't as nice as I am."_

"…_says the demon who thinks I ought to be a cannibal…"_

Kyuubi huffed in exasperation. _"I only said you should eat a human that one time, and he totally had it coming! Are you going to hold that against me forever?"_

"_Yep."_

"…_I still say you should have at least bitten him. Just once, was that too much to ask?"_

And so they spent another class period sniping at each other, as they had as far back as Naruto could remember. He often wondered if it had been like this for the "other" self that he had been, in the time "before."

Once when Naruto was little, and was trying to understand why all the other kids called him crazy when he talked about or to the voice he heard inside his head, he had asked Kyuubi where the demon had come from. Kyuubi had explained that he had been bound to Naruto, in some other lifetime, in a time before. When exactly that time before was, Kyuubi was unable to say. The demon had forgotten quite a bit in the transition from one lifetime to the next, and Naruto expected it also had drained a lot of power from him too, since Kyuubi often got tired and his voice would get faint. Naruto hated it when the demon started sounding weak; he didn't know if demons could get sick, not that Kyuubi would tell him if it ever got ill. But Kyuubi was Naruto's best- and only- friend, and seeing as it was residing in Naruto's head, he felt a little responsible for it.

"…_maybe I should invite him to go get ramen with me," _Naruto mused to his demon. _"Do you think he likes ramen?"_

"_Who?"_

"_Gaara!"_

"_Oh, are we back to him again?"_ Kyuubi said. _"No, I think he probably eats babies."_

"_Kyuubi, be serious!"_

"_I was," _said Kyuubi, turning its attention back to the view out the window. _"Hey, your jerkwad friend is out by the gate again."_

Naruto didn't have to look to know whom Kyuubi was referring to (though he did, anyway). _"Sasuke's not my friend." _

Naruto hadn't spoken to Sasuke Uchiha so much as trade insults with him throughout most of his school career. Sasuke had been the golden boy ever since elementary school, the boy with the highest grades, great athletic ability, and a dozen girls fawning all over him wherever he went. How he managed to be so popular when he was such a jerk was beyond Naruto's comprehension. Sasuke's most-likely-to-succeed streak lasted all the way into high school, until one day, the Uchiha suddenly dropped out.

He hadn't come back to school for the rest of the school year, and it seemed Sasuke wasn't planning on attending this year, either. The odd thing was that he kept coming ­_back,_ standing just outside the gate and staring up and the school building for hours at a time, before disappearing off to wherever he went nowadays.

"_I think he may have been your friend, before,"_ Kyuubi pondered. _"I can… almost remember him…"_

"_I bet he was a jackass in his past life, too."_ It was sometimes weird to Naruto, that contemplating his past life and the past lives of others seemed so normal to him. He often wondered about his "before" self and what he was like, if he was cooler than Naruto was now, if he'd actually had friends, or if people still thought he was crazy back then for talking to the demon in his head. Frequently he pressed Kyuubi for details about his past self, but Kyuubi said he could not remember much beyond "loud" and "annoying." Sometimes Naruto thought Kyuubi used the holes in its memory as a convenient excuse not to tell him things.

"_Mm. I get the feeling you're probably right,"_ Kyuubi said. _"Still, it would be nice if I could remember to be sure. I'd like to keep track of who my enemies are from one life to the next."_

"_What about Gaara? Remember anything about him and Shukaku yet?"_

"_You're not going to let this thing go, are you? I should never have told you when I felt the other demon's presence. You're going to hound that boy until he snaps, and when he kills you, it'll serve you right."_

"_Come on, I want to know!"_ Naruto persisted. _"If I'm not the only one with a demon around here, maybe he and I could be friends. We could be crazy together!"_

"_If you have any sense, you'll stay away from him,"_ Kyuubi cautioned. _"Shukaku wants to kill you, probably because of me. I don't think he and I were friends in our prior lives."_

"_You're the nine-tailed fox or whatever, though, right? You told me that trumps all the other ones."_

Naruto could feel his demon's swelling pride to have its obvious superiority pointed out. Honestly, demons were so easy. _"I didn't say Shukaku would be capable of killing you, but it's not wise to tempt him into trying, either. We're not- any of us- quite what we once were."_

And that was all Naruto could get Kyuubi to say on the subject. Or on any other subject for that matter, and so Naruto was forced to spend the rest of class with only his own thoughts to entertain him. He tried for a while to watch Sasuke out the window, but had to admit after a few minutes of that that the Uchiha was really _boring._ Just when Naruto had decided he'd actually have to start listening to the teacher, the bell rang to signal the end of class.

Like all the other students, Naruto jumped out of his seat and raced for the door at that long-awaited signal, but at the teacher's snapped, "Hold it, Uzumaki!" he was forced to come to a halt and delay the impending escape.

Larise-sensei was well known around the school for being strict but (usually) fair, and it was rumored that she used to be a sergeant in the military. Naruto didn't know if that was true, but he had seen her pale-blue-eyed glare force students to apologize before they even knew what they'd done wrong. Personally, Naruto rather liked her, since she was one of the few teachers who didn't treat him differently because he was "mentally ill."

"I trust it's not too much to hope that you were actually listening to the lesson today, is it?" Larise questioned him, as the classroom was emptying of its occupants.

"No sweat, sensei!" Naruto promised with a bright grin. He tapped the side of his head; "It's all in here. See ya!"

"_You will help me with the homework tonight, won't you Kyuubi?" _Naruto said as he entered the hall and was caught up in the stream of too many people trying to move through too small an area. _"I didn't hear half of what she was talking about today."_

"_You know you're never going to learn anything if you don't do it yourself,"_ the demon pointed out.

"_And you know you'll never get to go to that movie you wanted to see if I decide not to take you."_

"_Hmph. Fine."_

Naruto grinned. Demons were so easy.

_.x.x.x._

Naruto was forced to wait until lunchtime before he got the chance to seek out Gaara. Unfortunately, he didn't know where to start looking for the red-head, and most of the lunch period went by without any sign of him. So intent was Naruto in finding the other boy, that he knew he wouldn't be getting a chance to truly enjoy his lunch today, and vowed to make Gaara treat him to ramen to make up for it.

"_As if it was _his_ fault you wasted your lunchtime in your ill-advised attempts at stalking him,"_ Kyuubi muttered.

"_I'm not stalking him," _Naruto insisted. _"I just want to talk to him."_

"_Right. Because talking to him went so well the _last_ time you tried it…"_

Searches of the cafeteria turned up nothing, nor did the detours past the many school vending machines. It would be useless to try asking any of the other students still loitering around in the halls; as far as they were convinced, Naruto did not exist, and many of them would go out of their way to ignore him. Naruto didn't imagine Gaara would have made friends with any of them, anyway. Gaara didn't seem the type to want human companionship.

"_And so you're seeking him out because…?" _Kyuubi asked.

Naruto frowned, and winced a little as he ran outside, and was confronted by the bright afternoon sun after the relative dimness of the school interior. _"Because… sometimes, people just need friends. Whether they want them or not." _

The landscaping around the school provided ample places for students to hang out and enjoy their lunch periods, out on the lawn or under the shade of the many trees that grew on the school grounds. Students hung out in groups, spreading their early autumn jackets over prickly grass still browned from the summer heat.

And somewhere in the midst of this cluttering of people, Naruto spotted the flash of red hair that he'd been looking for. He jogged across the lawn, the grass crunching faintly under his steps. Gaara hadn't seemed to notice him. He had his lunch out, but didn't seem to be eating. He seemed… preoccupied with something, staring fixedly at an undetermined point.

Naruto slowed as he approached. Before he could greet Gaara, the red head seemed to snap out of his daze, whirling to face Naruto, teeth bared in a snarl that was pure animal. The ferocity was gone a second later, and Gaara regarded Naruto with a frown.

"What do you want?" Gaara muttered, attention returning to his neglected lunch. "I told you to leave me alone."

"_I told him to leave you alone too,"_ Kyuubi muttered to Gaara, though he knew the other boy couldn't hear him. _"If he won't listen to me, what makes you think he'll listen to you?"_

"_I listen to you; I listen to you all the damned time,"_ Naruto said. _"You never shut up; how could I not listen to you?"_

"_That's not what I meant and you know it."_

"I just wanted to talk to you," Naruto said out loud to Gaara. "And I'm not going to let you run away until you've heard everything I have to say."

"_Oh boy. This could take a while."_

"I'm not interested in what you have to say, and I meant it when I told you to leave me alone," Gaara said. "You don't know what I've done to people. What I could do to _you._ Now go away; I'm busy."

"Busy with what?" Naruto looked over to where Gaara had been staring before he'd come along to annoy him. The only thing to see in that direction was a boy, sitting apart from the others gathering on the lawn, reading under the shade of one of the trees and distractedly eating his lunch without looking away from his book. The boy had really long brown hair, and Naruto couldn't be sure, but he didn't think eyes that pale a color could really be normal.

"Who's that?" Naruto asked Gaara.

Gaara blinked as though startled, looking away and shrugging with false disinterest. "I have no idea."

"Then why were you staring at him?"

"I wasn't!" Gaara scowled at Naruto. "He just… reminds me of somebody."

"Oh. If you think you know him, you should go talk to him!" Naruto suggested. "At least ask him his name."

Gaara looked almost mortified at the thought. "I'm not going to do that."

"Come on, you're never going to make friends if you don't talk to anybody."

"I don't want friends!"

Naruto folded his arms. "Fine then. _I'll _go talk to him for you. You can thank me later. Wait here." He turned and headed over toward the unsuspecting boy. He heard Gaara growl something behind him, but he didn't turn around. He'd said he would talk to the dark haired boy for Gaara, and he would. Gaara would appreciate it in the end, he was sure.

The boy didn't look up when Naruto walked over, only calmly turned the page of his book and continued reading. Naruto cleared his throat, in hopes that he'd take the not-subtle-at-all hint, but the pale-eyed boy didn't even glance at him.

"Hey," Naruto said, after a second or two of being ignored. Most everybody ignored him in his life, but he never got used to it. "I'm Naruto Uzumaki. What's your name?"

"…You're in my light," the boy stated calmly, still not taking his gaze from his reading material. "Kindly take about three steps to the left."

"Wha-? Oh." Naruto took a step to correct his position.

The boy let out a sigh, and clarified, "Your _other_ left."

Naruto grit his teeth. "Are you ignoring me?"

"I'm trying, but you don't make it easy."

"All I wanted was to know your name, you jerk!" Naruto shouted at him. "You don't have to be such a stuck-up ass about it."

"But it's such fun," he deadpanned. Finally his gaze lifted from the page, eyes the color of ice and twice as cold fixing their stare on Naruto. "What do you want to know my name for? Surely there's someone else out here you could bother."

"Hey, I just asked because my friend Gaara wanted to know, and he-" Naruto looked back over his shoulder toward where he'd left the red head. But Gaara was gone. "Damn it. Where'd he go now?"

"_Can't turn your back on him for a second, can you?"_ Kyuubi said with some amusement.

The dark haired boy tucked the book he'd been reading into his backpack, shouldering the bag as he stood up. "As fascinating as this exchange has been, I think I see someone less annoying that I'd rather talk to. Excuse me."

"Hang on a second!" Naruto grabbed the boy's arm to keep him from walking away. "I spent all lunch tracking that guy down, and now he's gone and it's your fault. I think you owe me your name, at the very least."

He regarded Naruto with an enigmatic expression a moment. "If I tell you, will you quit bothering me?"

Naruto nodded furiously. "Uh-huh."

"My name's Neji Hyuuga," he said. He brushed Naruto's hand away, readjusted the weight of his backpack, and walked away without a single glance back.

Naruto glared at Neji's back as he walked away. _"Kyuubi, why does everyone hate me?"_

"_I think you just pick the wrong people to try to be friends with," _said Kyuubi.

Naruto growled, stomping in the other direction, to make a last effort at finding Gaara before the lunch period was over. Sometimes, he wished humans could be as easy as demons were.


	3. Variable and Control

Gaara stood once more in the desert, at the center of a violent storm of wind and sand. Beyond the storm, as always, were the bodies, their blood turning the sand into a gruesome mud. Hundreds of mangled dead, the grotesque handiwork of something vile and deranged. Hundreds of faces, staring at Gaara in frozen fear, agony, and accusation.

All but one.

Naruto stared at nothing, his blue eyes wide and clouded with shock. His face showed neither pain nor fear, only a vague astonishment. His hands were clutched over the gash that opened his belly, as though holding his entrails in, for all the good it would do. As the wind howled, one by one the corpses sank down, to be buried forever in the heart of the desert. As Naruto too was embraced by his grave, he let out a sigh and whispered to the wind. Despite the storm's fury, Gaara heard his words.

"It wasn't supposed to end like this."

The wind died down over the empty desert, and Gaara turned to meet the gaze of ice-eyed man. Though Gaara did not know his name, he knew he was real. He had seen him, finally _seen _his dream companion in the real world, far removed from this morbid desert. That confused Gaara, and scared him, and filled him with a deep, indescribable elation.

The dream boy reached out to Gaara, and spoke, though as always, Gaara could not hear his words. And for the first time, Gaara reached out in return, to take the boy's hand.

In the way of dreams, time and space distorted. A span of distance rose up to separate the two, and try as Gaara might, he could not reach the dark-haired boy. The wind was rising again, whipping up the sand to obscure Gaara's vision. The dream boy, just out of Gaara's reach, dropped his hand, turned, and walked away.

"Don't go!" Gaara yelled into the crying of the storm. "Don't leave me! _Neji!"_

_.x.x.x._

Gaara awoke with a sudden jolt, mere seconds before his new alarm clock began its morning wake-up routine. It soon met a fate similar to its predecessor, as Gaara ripped the plug from the socket and threw the clock against the wall. A heavy, sweat-soaked silence filled the room after the violent death of the alarm clock, and Gaara stared at the fresh dent in the wall without really seeing it. His mind still clung to the fading remnants of the dream. He'd already forgotten the name he'd cried out at the end.

It had been different this time. All his life, the dream had never varied. Year after year, night after night, it was always the same scene. Now the dream had changed, and Gaara didn't know why. But he knew he didn't like it.

This was probably all Naruto's fault. It had to be. Apparently it wasn't enough that the loud-mouthed blonde insisted on disrupting Gaara's waking life; he had to go and invade Gaara's dreams too!

"_At least in your dreams, his guts are spilling out,"_ Shukaku pointed out reasonably. _"I know some pretty good ways to disembowel somebody, if you're interested."_

"I'm not," Gaara said, kicking away the tangled bed sheets and getting out of bed. He pulled out a clean school uniform for the day. "And before you ask, I'm also not interested in hearing your favorite methods of impalement, dismemberment, mutilation or decapitation."

"_You forgot asphyxiation."_

"That either." Gaara pulled on his uniform with a little more force than strictly necessary; he was lucky he didn't tear anything. "Just _once_, can't you talk about something other than the many ways to kill a person?"

"_Well, of course. Really, if you wanted me to change the subject, all you had to do was ask,"_ said the voice.

Gaara paused on his way out the door, suspicious. "Really? You'll talk about something else?"

"_But of course. Aside from my vast knowledge on the art of murder, I'm also well versed in many extensive methods of _torture. _They're still alive at the end; they only wish they were dead."_

Gaara grit his teeth and headed for the bathroom for the morning necessities, as the voice in his head gleefully launched into explanations of a method that involved the improper use of a rusty nail and an ice cream spoon. It was just another day, like all the others that came before it.

Except for the dream. Gaara didn't want to admit it, but the change in the dream bothered him a lot more than it ought to. After all, it _was_ only a dream, no matter how reoccurring and vivid. Only a dream, a product of the combination of his memories, his mental disease, too much violence on television, and whatever wonky thing he'd eaten before bed. It didn't mean anything.

…did it?

Still pondering this, he wandered downstairs and into the dining room, where his siblings were having breakfast. Temari and Kankuro both looked up from their food when he came in, and watched him with expressions wary. His breakfast was already sitting out for him; cereal as always, and toast already buttered. What he really wanted was pancakes and sausage, but he wasn't allowed to handle knives, and having his sister cut his food was just too degrading. And they watched him like hawks on the occasions he was allowed use of a fork. It was easier to stick to cereal.

Although with Shukaku's recent torture exposition, it probably wasn't even safe to let Gaara handle a _spoon._

Most mornings breakfast was eaten in silence, once Gaara came down. Gaara usually preferred it that way; it wasn't like he had anything to say to his brother and sister anyway. He didn't know if it was some sense of familial duty that kept them from leaving him or kicking him out, or something else entirely. It would be only logical to have abandoned him long ago; he had tried to kill the both of them on numerous occasions. An uneasy truce had sort of formed on its own; Temari and Kankuro kept a careful distance and tried not to provoke their little brother, and Gaara in turn tried to keep Shukaku from attempting fratricide more than once a year.

"Gaara." Temari's voice was soft when she spoke to him, always gentling, like she thought he might bite her. She always tried to hide her hesitancy around him, tried to pretend like they were a family, but Gaara knew he didn't make it easy for her. "I saw you talking to some blonde kid at lunch yesterday. Have you made a friend already?"

Gaara hadn't seen Temari outside at lunch the day before, but it didn't surprise him that one or both of his siblings had been spying on him, to make sure he was behaving himself. "He's not my friend. He's nobody."

"Oh." Gaara thought he detected a note of disappointment in her voice. "You know, you could try making a friend or two this time around."

"No, I couldn't," Gaara corrected her. Did they not understand the dangers of him getting close to someone? Being "friends" with someone would not protect said person from him. In fact, it would shorten their life expectancy considerably. As much as Temari thought he ought to, Gaara was just not meant to function in normal society. One day they would realize it, and he'd end up spending the rest of his life in a private, padded room.

"_And then it will just be you and me,"_ Shukaku said. _"Forever, and ever, and ever."_

And that would be enough to drive anyone crazy.

_.x.x.x._

They walked to school as usual; Gaara in front, Temari and Kankuro following him at a safe distance. Upon reaching their destination, Temari and Kankuro said something to Gaara about having a good day and being nice to the other students, but he didn't really pay attention. They didn't press the issue, heading inside to their own classes. Gaara took a moment to consider the school campus, steeling himself for yet another day of ignoring voices and trying not to kill anyone. As it had been the day before, students cluttered over the front lawn of the school, talking and laughing and leaving their garbage strewn over the grass. Gaara walked past them all without acknowledging or making note of their presence. He might as well have been in a different dimension than they, he unable to see them, and they unable to see him.

"Gaara! Oi, Gaara!"

And apparently some loud-mouthed blonde had taken it upon himself to breach those dimensional barriers. It seemed Naruto had been waiting for Gaara to arrive, and Gaara realized too late that out here in the open, there was nowhere escape from him.

"Are you stupid as well as crazy?" Gaara demanded as Naruto ran up to him. "What part of 'leave me alone' don't you understand?"

Naruto ignored the question, shoving a green plastic soda bottle into Gaara's hands. "Here! This is for you."

Gaara blinked at the bottle. It was dirty, the outside covered with gray, gritty particles and the inside containing a large amount of the same. "It's dirt. What would I want with a bottle of dirt?"

"It's sand!" Naruto said. "Kyuubi said that you liked sand, so I got you some. So don't run away from me anymore, okay?"

Gaara glared at the innocent bottle of sand in his hand, then at the boy that had gifted it to him. "You're never going to leave me alone, are you?"

Naruto shook his head, with a vulpine grin. "No way!"

"I'll kill you," Gaara promised.

"No you won't," said Naruto. "But you can try."

"_See?" _Shukaku said. _"He gave you permission. Let's break his neck."_

"…fine," he said to Naruto. "Do whatever you want. I'm not giving you any more warnings." Gaara shook his head at the sheer stupidity of his imposed companion, brushing some of the granules off the green bottle and walking past Naruto toward the school door. The blonde fell into step beside him.

"You know, you don't look so good today," Naruto said as they walked inside the school building. "You've got these dark circles 'round your eyes. Didn't sleep well last night?"

"I slept fine," Gaara said. "I had a dream that you were eviscerated, though."

"Oh yeah?" Naruto said. "That's pretty cool."

"…do you even know what 'eviscerated' means?"

"Not really," said Naruto. "Is it bad?"

"_I could give you a demonstration,"_ Shukaku said with wicked glee.

"It means having your intestines ripped out of your body," Gaara explained. "Tends to be messy."

"Wait, you had a dream that I got my _guts_ torn out?" Naruto said. He frowned, then laughed it off. "No you didn't. You're joking."

Gaara shrugged, not caring whether Naruto believed him or not. "Suit yourself."

"You're really weird, you know that?" Naruto said, trailing Gaara to the stairs. "Are you really so obsessed with death, or is that just your demon's influence? Kyuubi was pretty bitey at the beginning too, but he calmed down a lot since I was a kid. Just have to show 'em who's boss. Ought to try it; demons are easy, when you handle them right."

"That's none of your business, and Shukaku is not a demon. Don't judge me by the standards of your own dysfunction," Gaara said, checking his watch. He had a few minutes before he had to get to class. He found a spot out of the way of the hallway traffic, and settled in to wait.

Naruto waited with him, scanning the crowd curiously, as if he could pick out what Gaara was looking for. "Why are we waiting here?"

"I don't know why _you're_ here," Gaara said. "_I_ am looking for someone." The boy with the long dark hair and the pale, ever-changing eyes had come this way the day before on the way to his class, so it was possible he'd be here today.

"That guy from yesterday?" Naruto guessed. "Are you stalking him or something?"

"Go to class, Naruto," Gaara said. He disliked implications that he was _stalking_ anybody. Naruto was a stalker; Gaara was merely curious.

"His name's Neji."

_Neji. _The name struck a chord in Gaara, eliciting a rising chorus of indescribable and intense emotion. It was just a name, but it felt like… something momentous. He could have sworn he'd never heard the name before. But it was so familiar. Was that the name he'd called his dream companion?

"What did you say?" Gaara managed to ask, his voice hushed.

"That guy from yesterday," Naruto said. "I told you I'd talk to him for you. Would have told you yesterday, if you hadn't up and disappeared. He said his name's Neji Hyuuga. He's a snobby jerk, though. If I were you, I'd find somebody nicer to stalk."

"I'm not stalking him," Gaara said softly. "He was in my dream too."

"Huh. Were all his insides on the outside?"

"No!" Gaara said. "He-"

"_He's over there,"_ Shukaku interrupted him. _"Better hurry, or you'll miss him."_

Gaara scanned the crowd quickly, immediately picking out the one he'd been waiting for. Neji Hyuuga was moving easily through the crowded halls, slipping past the obstacles of slow and stationary students as if they were no impediment at all. He had his back to Gaara, walking away from him.

He'd walked away from Gaara that morning too, in his dream. But Gaara wasn't going to let him go.

Gaara's progression through the hall full of people was not nearly as gracefully accomplished as Neji's, but Gaara pushed his way through the clottings of other students. He heard Naruto call out after him as they were separated in the crowd, but he ignored the blonde's shouted questionings. Better to leave Naruto behind, anyway; this had nothing to do with him.

"Neji," Gaara said as he neared his unsuspecting target. He felt this somehow might be his only chance to talk to Neji; if he didn't now, he'd lose his nerve and never would. "Neji!"

Neji paused when he heard someone calling his name, turning to look. Gaara took a deep breath, coming face to face with his dream companion for the first time in real life. He was stunned how precisely the details of his dreams matched the reality. It was the same face, the same pale, intense eyes with their opalescent spectrum.

And faced with that icy iridescent gaze, Gaara couldn't think of a single thing to say. What _could_ he say?

"_There's always, 'Hi, you don't know me, but I've been dreaming about you for most of my life',"_ Shukaku suggested. _"Though that sounds like a cheesy pick-up line."_

Neji frowned, looking a little perplexed at the sight of Gaara. "You look familiar. Have we… met somewhere before?"

"No. Yes." Gaara shook his head. "Maybe. I'm Gaara."

"Neji Hyuuga," Neji introduced himself. He still looked thoughtful. "It's strange. I know you from somewhere, I just can't remember where... Was there something you wanted?"

"I…" Gaara wanted to ask him about the dream, more than anything. He'd dreamed of this boy so many times, for so many years. It had to all mean something. He had to _know._ But Neji, this Neji, was real, and the man in his dream was not. They weren't the same person. The real Neji would dismiss the dream, and Gaara, as insane. He'd walk away, and Gaara would never get another chance. "I just…"

Neji glanced at the clock on the wall. Gaara looked too; there was only a minute or so until the first bell. "We'll be late to our classes if we don't hurry," Neji said. "We should talk more some other time. Nice meeting you, Gaara." He turned, and walked away.

"_That's the second time today he's walked away from you," _Shukaku pointed out. _"Seems to be making a habit of it. Even if the first time was only a dream."_

"Shut up," Gaara said softly, though the words held no force to them. It didn't matter what Shukaku said. Gaara had spoken to Neji. Neji had said they could talk more later. Gaara still had a chance.

A chance for _what_, though, he couldn't even begin to fathom.


	4. Test Subject

Shukaku was oddly subdued since their encounter with Neji in the hallway. After so many years of listening to the voice's near constant threats and homicidal urges, it was almost disturbing to hear it so quiet, as if caught up in some private contemplation. Given the voice's usual train of thought, Gaara really didn't want to know what it was thinking now.

Gaara sat in the very back corner of the classroom, having scooted his chair and desk as far from all others as he dared without calling attention to himself. It was history class, a subject which might have even interested Gaara, had he bothered to pay attention. He never really listened in his classes, anymore. Over the many years of schooling, Gaara had usually been too preoccupied with resisting the voice's sadistic suggestions to focus on his studies. And he'd moved so many times, and attended so many schools, it seemed pointless to worry about his grades at any one place. Even if he did manage to scrape by with a decent grade at one school, after a few months he and his siblings would move again, and it would all count for nothing.

So he passed the time as he normally did when Shukaku gave him a few moments of peace. His notebook was turned to a fresh sheet of paper, on which he doodled on idly. One of the many therapists he'd seen had suggested drawing as a way of expressing and curbing his violent desires, a sort of anger management technique. Gaara didn't know how much it really helped, but the habit had stuck. Though, his artistic ability was limited to stick-figures and crudely represented sharp pointy weaponry, and a great deal of red Sharpie marker to depict the blood. That was, for the most part, the only thing he got out of going to class; dozens of notebooks full of graphic, if poorly drawn, death.

If nothing else, it entertained Shukaku. Usually.

"_Hey in there,"_ Gaara finally thought to the voice inside of his head. _"Are you dead?" _One could hope, at any rate.

"_Mm,"_ came the voice's reply.

Gaara frowned. That could mean anything, but at least he knew the voice was still in there. It sounded distracted. That could either be a good thing, or a very bad thing, depending on what was distracting the voice. And the only thing Gaara could think of that could be bothering Shukaku was the same thing troubling Gaara's own thoughts. Namely, Neji Hyuuga.

It was one thing to have spent so many years dreaming about someone he'd never seen, someone he didn't even know existed. It was quite another to meet that someone in person. Gaara didn't know what that could mean. If he could dream about a person for years before ever meeting them, it would suggest some kind of connection between them, something beyond what modern science could explain away. And if now they were delving into the metaphysical or even supernatural for explanations, then perhaps all of Naruto's talk of demons and prior existences wasn't really so farfetched after all.

It was all starting to give Gaara a headache. There was no such thing as demons, he reminded himself. And as for the dream, Neji Hyuuga's stunning resemblance to his dream companion might just be an extreme coincidence.

"_That's right, deny what you can't explain,"_ Shukaku said, finally surfacing from its silence. _"We'll turn you into a real head case, yet."_

"_If you're going to go all 'therapist' on me," _Gaara said to the voice, _"why don't you go diagnose _yourself,_ and leave me alone."_

"_I don't need to diagnose myself. I already know what I am,"_ the voice said.

"_Oh really? Do tell."_

"_I'm your worst nightmare."_

Gaara frowned at the voice's unhelpful answer, and looked away from his rough sketching of a guillotine, to consider the view out the window as he thought. As the days progressed further into September, the sunlight did not hold quite as much warmth to it as it had during summer's peak. But the dreary gray-sky days of autumn had not yet begun, and the sun still spread its cheery brightness over the school campus.

There was somebody standing out by the school gate, Gaara noticed. He couldn't really make out their features from that distance, but the boy looked to be about high-school-student age, with black hair, and wearing a dark blue hooded sweatshirt. They just stood there, just outside the gate, as if they couldn't decide whether to come in or not. Then, as if they could sense that Gaara was watching them, they turned and ran off.

"_That was weird,"_ Gaara decided. _"What was that about?"_

"_Probably just somebody's perverted stalker,"_ Shukaku suggested. _"There seems to be a lot of that going around these days."_

"_Not you, too," _Gaara said. _"I am not a stalker. How many times do I have to say it?"_

"_I think you protest too much,"_ Shukaku teased. _"You get awfully defensive for not being a stalker. Besides, I'm in your head, remember? I know how much time you spend thinking about him. The boy of your dreams… Stalker or not, you have to admit that's pretty romantic."_

"_Romantic? Since when do you care about something like that?" _Gaara demanded. _"The only things you ever think about are violence and bloodshed. It would probably be safer for Neji if I never came near him again. You'd only try to hurt him, otherwise." _And Gaara knew he couldn't stand to let that happen. Not to his dream companion, the only constant worth keeping in his life.

Shukaku was silent for a moment at the accusation. Then, _"I would never,"_ said the voice.

Gaara blinked. Shukaku sounded serious._ Never._ Did he dare believe the voice's promise? Why would Shukaku even say such a thing? The voice offered no explanation for its words, and Gaara was still considering whether or not to demand one, when the bell signaling the end of class rang.

Over the din of students stampeding from their seats and out the door, the teacher spoke over the noise, "Gaara, may I have a word with you before you leave?"

Gaara left his seat slowly, studying the teacher as he waited for the other students to move out of his way so he could proceed. The man had ageless features, it was hard to even guess at how old he was. His hair was long and black, his skin so pale it was practically translucent. Pallor like that couldn't be healthy. He had an unwavering, secretive smile, and a stare so intense it seemed that he never blinked.

As the students emptied out of the classroom, Gaara tucked his notebook into his backpack and approached the teacher. "You wanted to talk to me, Orochimaru-sensei?"

"I got the impression you weren't hearing much of my lecture today," Orochimaru-sensei said.

It wasn't a question, merely a statement of fact. Gaara wouldn't bother disputing it; he _hadn't_ been listening. "Yeah, sorry. Just tired today, I guess." Teachers never liked that excuse, but would usually accept it and let him go.

"I understand it's hard to concentrate for the first few days of school," Orochimaru-sensei said. He didn't sound accusing, and his smile never faded. "I'll expect better attentiveness from you tomorrow, all right? Try not to spend my class time listening to the voices in your head."

Gaara froze, staring at his history teacher. _The voice._ Was Shukaku's presence obvious to everyone now? Could Gaara handle it if it was? "What do you know about it?"

"Just an expression," Orochimaru-sensei said smoothly. "A figure of speech. No need to take things so seriously, Gaara."

"…right." A coincidence. He didn't know about Shukaku after all. "Excuse me, sensei, but I need to get going to my next class."

"Of course," said Orochimaru-sensei. "And you know, if you ever have anything you need to talk about, I'm always here."

Gaara just nodded quickly and exited the classroom, but the uneasiness followed him into the hallway. He didn't know why the encounter bothered him so. Orochimaru-sensei might be a little creepy, but he wasn't dangerous. It just felt like there was quite a bit that the teacher knew, and wasn't saying.

He also noticed that Shukaku didn't have much to say either.

"_You really want to hear my thoughts on the matter?"_ the voice asked him.

"_Might as well."_

"_Even snakes without venom will bite,"_ Shukaku said. _"Also, you've got thirty seconds before you're late to chemistry." _

A quick glance at the hall clock confirmed it so. "Damn." The conversation and unease were forgotten, as Gaara ran off to his next class.

_.x.x.x._

In Chemistry, Shukaku was back to its usual talkative, evil self. Perhaps twice as bad, even, to make up for its lack during History. The pink haired girl in the seat next to Gaara would never know how close she had come to being set on fire that day. Chemistry, unfortunately, was one class that Shukaku showed some interest in. Or at least, interest concerning the properties of acids, and which combinations of elements would conclude with an explosion. Gaara made a mental note to try and transfer into Botany, instead. Surely Shukaku wouldn't be able to cause so much destruction with vegetation.

"_Do I hear a challenge?"_ Shukaku taunted.

"_It's not a challenge," _Gaara said. _"You know, if you could be so creative in something other than killing people, you might actually be good for something."_

"_Yeah, but where would the fun be in that?" _said Shukaku.

It was hard arguing with the voice's straightforward logic, though Gaara spent most of the class period trying. It was a relief when the bell finally rang, freeing the students for the lunch period. Gaara closed his notebook on his most recent drawings (these depicting students being melted into puddles by acid), and headed purposefully out of the classroom. Not only did he want to get Shukaku away from the temptations of those chemicals, but during lunch he would finally get a chance to seek out the one that had been on his mind all morning; Neji Hyuuga.

Unfortunately, Naruto found Gaara first.

"Gaara!" Naruto's voice carried through the hallway as the blonde pushed his way through the crush of people. "Hey Gaara! Wait up!"

"_How nice, your own personal groupie,"_ said Shukaku. _"Please let me nail his feet to the linoleum. I can't take much more of fox-face following at our heels."_

Gaara wasn't under any circumstances going to nail Naruto's feet to the ground. But he did have to agree with Shukaku on one point; Naruto's attempts to become Gaara's shadow were getting really annoying. Short of giving in to the voice's demand for maiming, however, Gaara couldn't think of how to make the blonde go away.

"Hey," Naruto greeted brightly when he had caught up with Gaara. "Do you mind if I join you for lunch?"

"Yes," Gaara said.

But Naruto was undeterred. "We could go off campus if you wanted to. There's this great ramen place just down the street."

"I brought lunch," Gaara said. "And I already have plans. Don't you have some friends you could go and bother instead of me?"

Naruto's smile dimmed a little. "Eh, no, not really. Until you showed up, it's just been me an' Kyuubi. Everybody else thinks I'm crazy and won't talk to me. Like I might be contagious." He shook his head, like he could shake away the memory, and his normal cheery expression was back. "But now you're here, and you're like me. So we could be friends, because you're the only one who knows I'm not crazy."

There was a flaw in Naruto's logic, since Gaara _did_ think he was crazy. Naruto could call Kyuubi a demon or an angel or an elephant for all Gaara cared, it didn't change the fact that it was just a voice, a manifestation due to imbalances in the brain. Despite this, Gaara found himself sympathetic to the blonde boy. Because of his lifetime of problems with Shukaku, Gaara had never had any friends either. He knew in his case it was better that he didn't since he would have ended up hurting them. But it didn't seem like Kyuubi shared Shukaku's insatiable lust for all things bloody, and yet Naruto had still been shunned by his peers.

"_So you're both social rejects,"_ Shukaku said. _"That's no reason to let him trail us around like a puppy dog. Ever think he might not have any friends because he's just plain annoying?"_

Gaara frowned at the hopeful expression on Naruto's face. He really had no instinct for self-preservation, that was for certain. Just hanging around Gaara would put Naruto's life in danger, but the blonde didn't seem to care about that. "Try not to give Shukaku a reason to kill you," Gaara said, turning away and heading for the stairs.

Taking that as an invitation, Naruto let out a cheer and sprinted to catch up with his new friend.

"So where are we going, anyway?" Naruto asked as they reached the first floor of the school building.

"Outside," Gaara said. "There's someone I want to talk to."

As they had been the day before, the lawns of the school campus were crowded with students, eating their lunches with their groups of friends, talking and laughing and in general just making a lot of noise and mess. A few people looked over as Gaara and Naruto passed by, but didn't say anything to them. Gaara spotted Temari and Kankuro sitting on the grass eating their lunches as well; since Gaara had been out here the day before, they must have anticipated him to be out again today. Temari gave a little wave hello when she and Gaara made eye contact; he just gave a short nod and walked in another direction.

"Who're they?" Naruto asked, looking back over his shoulder. "You make other friends already?"

"Temari and Kankuro," Gaara said, not looking back. "They're not friends, they're my siblings."

"Oh yeah?" Naruto said. "That's awesome! We should go over and say hello. I always thought it would be cool to have brothers and sisters."

"We don't need to talk to them," said Gaara. "They're just out here to spy on me. Have to make sure I don't murder anyone. I've gotten away with all the injuries I've caused people because I'm crazy, but if I kill somebody they'll lock me up for good."

"…You and your demon have a lot of issues to work out, don't you," said Naruto.

"_Oh, you have no idea,"_ said Shukaku.

The two of them walked past the clusters of other students, toward the relatively shaded area where a small copse of trees stood on one side of the lawn. Just as he had been the day before, Neji Hyuuga sat alone under one of those trees, reading a new book, and absently tearing bite-sized pieces off of his sandwich to eat. As seemed to be his wont, Neji did not look up as the two approached him. Gaara just stood there awkwardly, unsure what to say, or if indeed he ought to be talking to Neji at all. Naruto too, for once, kept his mouth shut.

"Hey," Gaara finally said, uncertainly. "Can we sit and have lunch with you?"

Neji looked up from his book slowly, fixing him with that so-familiar gaze. "Gaara, right?" He glanced at Naruto. "And the annoying boy from yesterday."

"My name's _Naruto,_ you jerk."

Neji ignored that. "Sit if you want to."

Gaara and Naruto sat, Gaara taking out the sandwich Temari had packed for his lunch. It was a roast beef sandwich, one of Gaara's favorites, but he found he wasn't very hungry. Talking to Neji, being next to him, made him nervous, and killed his appetite. After catching Naruto staring at the sandwich with undisguised want (Naruto had apparently not brought lunch of his own), Gaara just handed it over to him. Naruto gave him a bright grin, and in a display of poor eating etiquette, ate about half the sandwich in one bite.

The silence that descended was awkward to say the least. Gaara didn't know what to say. Naruto still had most of a sandwich stuffed in his mouth, which he was laboriously trying to chew. Neji was watching Gaara, but his hands kept idly tracing the cover of the book in his hands; Gaara imagined Neji was wishing he could return to his reading.

"_Well you're going to have to say something, dumb-ass,"_ Shukaku said to him. _"And try not to say anything stupid, either."_

So Gaara said the first thing that came to mind. "Neji, do you believe in past lives?"

"_See," _said Shukaku, _"that was stupid."_

Neji just blinked at the abrupt question, and was silent as he mulled it over. "Reincarnation is an interesting, and in some parts of the world, widely popular theory, but no, I don't believe in it."

Naruto finally managed to swallow his bite of sandwich, and joined the conversation. "You don't believe in it? Not even a little?"

"I don't," said Neji. "Human nature will compel most people, who fear the unknown, to make up such theories of life-after-death in order to comfort themselves. When we die, we rot; that's the only proven fact."

Naruto gave Neji a suspicious look. "You don't believe in Fate, do you?"

"No."

"Huh." Naruto took another bite of the sandwich, a smaller one this time, and mumbled around it, "Well, at least _some_ things change…"

"What about demons?" Gaara said. "Do you believe in demons?"

"You ask very strange questions," Neji said. "Why do you want to know?"

"I just do," Gaara said softly.

Neji shrugged. "People fear the unknown. When upsetting things happen and people don't know why, they blame it on something that doesn't exist. Like demons. They're creatures imagined up to be humanity's scapegoats."

"Ha," said Naruto. "Shows what you know."

"This is hardly a normal topic of discussion," Neji mused. "I'm curious as to why you're asking me whether I believe in these things or not."

The reason Gaara was asking was a complicated one, one even he didn't fully understand, or expect Neji would appreciate the magnitude of. He knew it was not perhaps the wisest thing to tell him, either. Neji was technically a stranger. But Gaara inexplicably felt like he knew him. And he hoped, somehow, Neji would understand the things that Gaara did not.

"I didn't even know of your existence in the real world until yesterday," Gaara said slowly. "But for most of my life, I've seen you in my dreams. You probably don't believe there's meaning in dreams either, and I'm not even sure that _I_ do. But surely, after seeing you for so many years before we'd even met, it has to have some significance, right?"

Neji stared at Gaara for what felt like an interminable moment after hearing the odd explanation. "Well," Neji finally said, "you are right about one part."

Gaara hardly dared let himself hope. "Really? Which part?"

"I _don't_ believe you." Neji calmly tucked his book into his bag, stood, and without even a nod of farewell, walked away.

"See, I told you he was a snobby jerk," said Naruto.

"_Well, I think you pretty much screwed that up,"_ Shukaku said. _"Next time, let me do all the talking."_

"_Even if I thought it would be a good idea to let you talk to him, which I don't, I don't think it would help,"_ Gaara thought back.

"_At least he didn't walk away from us the first time we met!" _the voice insisted.

"_What, this morning? He did so walk away; he had to go to class, remember?"_

"_No, not this morning…" _said Shukaku. _"The _other_ time."_

Gaara wasn't sure he liked where this was heading. _"What other time? I've never spoken to him before today."_

"…_as far as you know," _said the voice. _"There was… a time before. You don't remember. Even I don't remember much. But he was there, with us. He was ours. And then… we were betrayed."_


	5. Research and Development

Again, Gaara's once consistent dream had changed, and this time it was worse. Despite the glaring light of the desert sun shining down on him, the very symbol of relentless heat, Gaara felt frozen to the bone. The corpses were piled on top of one another, most of them only vaguely resembling the human shape they'd once been. The sand was soaked in blood and gore. The wind was stagnant, and the meat fields were rotting, buzzards circling the carnage like it were an endless buffet. 

Across the desert of slaughter, there were only two small areas clean of the taint of mutilated flesh. Gaara stood at the center of one, an island of golden, blood-free sand no wider than five feet in diameter. In the center of the other was Naruto, but not the Naruto that Gaara knew from school. 

This Naruto was crouched like an animal, impossibly sharp teeth bared in a feral snarl of fury. Red energy swirled around his form like a blood-soaked wind, and nine long, vulpine tails waved in agitation behind him. His hands and his face were stained with blood, and as Gaara watched, Naruto attacked the nearest of the dead, shredding it to pieces with claws and teeth and devouring it. There was nothing but madness in Naruto's eyes, and the pain of having lost everything dear to him. There was nothing left of his humanity. This was a demon. 

The wind rose and so did the desert. The storm of sand briefly obscured Gaara's vision, but he could tell the earth was taking in its dead for their burial. Naruto was screaming, howling, as the sand rose to take him down too, fighting all the way. He was buried, the sand filling his nose and mouth and lungs until he struggled no longer.

When the wind slackened and died, the massacre was gone. The sand shone golden once more, no trace of the blood that had saturated it. There was but one corpse left in the desert, and this was laid like homage at Gaara's feet. Neji's eyes were open, staring unseeing at the perfectly blue sky. There was so much blood on him, blood going dark and crusty as it dried. Even in death, he was beautiful. 

A dreadful coil of anguish knotted up within Gaara, choking off his breath with its grief. The vision before him began to blur; belatedly, he realized he could not see through his tears. The desert rose once more, gently, and enfolded the pale corpse in its embrace, drawing Neji away. Gaara reached out a hand as though to stop it, but the body was gone. Gaara was alone.

Gaara's words echoed brokenly across the barren desert landscape.

"It wasn't supposed to end like this." 

_.x.x.x._

Gaara was awake and staring at the ceiling by the time the newest alarm clock finally went off. He didn't even break it when it began its cheerful bleating, turning it off and getting out of bed. He went through his routine mechanically; donning his school uniform, using the bathroom, flushing away his medication, and going down to breakfast. Through it all, the dream replayed in his head, every detail more gruesome under inspection. After a token attempt at eating, Gaara gave up and dumped his cereal in the sink. 

His siblings watched him closely, but they needn't have worried. Shukaku had nothing to say that morning, a small relief in Gaara's mind. 

Temari and Kankuro finished their breakfasts quickly, as though made too uncomfortable by Gaara's morose silence to really savor their food. Knives and forks were washed and put back into their padlocked drawer, and the three got ready to go to school. 

They made it all the way to the sidewalk outside the house before Temari stopped with a groan. "I forgot; I left my notebook on my desk. You two go on ahead, I'll catch up." She raced back into the house to fetch her misplaced notebook, leaving her two brothers alone.

Gaara started walking, Kankuro following the standard three feet behind him, plus one foot for that extra head start should he need to run for it. They walked in silence, each lost in their private contemplations. 

Temari had still not caught up when Gaara stopped suddenly, turning to look at his older brother. "Kankuro, do you think that dreams have some deeper meaning?" 

Kankuro took on that 'deer caught in the headlights of a semi-truck' look that he got whenever Gaara spoke directly to him. "Uh, yeah," he said, uneasily. "Unless you don't want me to, in which case, no way."

That was not a satisfactory answer, but pressing him for a definite 'yes' or 'no' would only make Kankuro panic. He babbled when he panicked, and he'd never get a proper answer then. Gaara let it go, and started walking again. 

He was surprised when Kankuro spoke up again; Kankuro never talked to Gaara voluntarily. "You got a dream that's been bothering you? You've been… weird all morning. Weirder than usual. You have been taking your meds, right?"

"Yeah, I took them," Gaara lied. "Kankuro… have you ever dreamed something that felt so real, it feels like… not really a dream, but a memory?" 

"Yeah, kind of…" Kankuro said. "There's this one dream I get… but it's pretty freaky. Not really something that could happen in the real world." 

"What's it about?" Gaara asked.

"Promise not to laugh?" Kankuro said.

"Do I _ever_ laugh?"

"Good point." Kankuro sighed. "Every once in a while, I dream about puppets. Not like happy fun puppets though. They kill people. It's like, I'm controlling them, but they're… killing people. And in the dream, I don't even care. I'm always really freaked when I wake up, though." He frowned at Gaara. "Don't tell Temari?"

"You're afraid of the dream?" Gaara asked. "Or afraid you'll end up like me?"

"Hey, you've never killed anybody," Kankuro said. He was getting that nervous look again. 

"You and I both know it's only a matter of time," said Gaara. "I don't think you have to worry, though. About ending up like me, I mean. It would take more than a dream to make you a killer, and you don't have a voice in your head."

"Thank God," Kankuro muttered.

The sound of hurrying footsteps preceded Temari catching up to them, notebook in hand. "Hey guys," she said as she joined them. "What'd I miss?"

Kankuro had once more lapsed into his habitual silence. Gaara just shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing at all." 

_.x.x.x._

Naruto met Gaara outside the school building when they arrived, following him around and chatting as they waited for the first bell to ring. Gaara didn't really listen to what the blonde was saying, though. He just kept thinking about his dream, and the vicious monstrosity Naruto had been in that dream vision. He wondered if that was what Kyuubi was really like, and all Naruto's cheerfulness and enthusiasm was just a cover for something much darker. 

Then again, he didn't really think Naruto had the intelligence to be that deceptive.

Gaara didn't see Neji in the hallway that morning, which was both a disappointment and a relief. He didn't know what he'd say to Neji if he did see him. And he wasn't sure he'd be able to look at Neji without seeing him as he'd been in the dream, corpse-pale and dead-eyed. 

The bell rang, and Gaara was for once not late for class.

His mind inevitably wandered from the teachers' lessons within the first ten minutes of the class period, but even his usual notebook doodles didn't comfort him today. When he discovered his stick-figure carnage was starting to resemble his dream's diorama, he ripped the page out and crumpled it up. There was no solace to be found in any of his first few classes, and time and again his mind replayed the same disturbing sequence. He went from one class to another on autopilot, not really noticing anything happening around him. 

History was spent mostly staring out the window, in lieu of his normal distractions. The dark haired boy was at the gate again, just standing and staring at the school building. Gaara wondered what he was looking for. Shukaku suggested throwing rocks at him. The time dragged; eventually the boy at the gate ran off to wherever he went, and there was nothing to stare at but the garbage on the sidewalk and the occasional car passing by. 

Gaara was startled out of his thoughts when the bell rang; he gathered his stuff together slowly as the other kids made their mad dash for the exit. 

"Gaara," said Orochimaru-sensei as Gaara passed by his desk. "Can you spare a moment?"

Gaara paused, blinking impassively at the teacher. "Yes?"

"I noticed my lesson on the wars of the last century failed to hold your attention again today," Orochimaru-sensei said. 

"Yeah, sorry," Gaara muttered. "After a while, all those wars start sounding alike."

"So I've gathered," the teacher said. "I've been thinking, perhaps you would find a somewhat… less conventional subject more to your liking. I brought something you might find interesting." 

Orochimaru-sensei handed Gaara a book, the approximate size of his other history textbook. But the cover was made of worn leather, and the pages were stiff and yellowed. Embossed on the front was the title, "A Brief History of the Hidden Villages." Bellow that in smaller lettering was the author's name, "O. Sannin." 

"From my own collection. Not the sort of thing you'd find in any regular library," Orochimaru-sensei said. "You're welcome to keep it, if it intrigues you."

"This looks old," said Gaara. "Is it an antique?"

"Sadly, it's only a reproduction. It has little in the way of monetary value. But I think you might enjoy the subject matter."

"_Don't take anything from that snake,"_ Shukaku counseled sourly. _"You don't know what he'll want in return."_

"_He's a teacher," _Gaara said to the voice. _"What could he possibly want me to do? My homework?"_

"Thanks," Gaara said out loud, tucking the book into his bag next to the notebook. "I'll take a look at it."

_.x.x.x._

Gaara met up with Naruto, and the two went outside for lunch. It was amazing how quickly Gaara was becoming accustomed to the blonde's presence. But in its own bizarre way, it was nice to have someone around, who knew the risks and chose to befriend Gaara despite them. Though, Gaara still wondered over Naruto's relative sanity. 

Neji was in his customary spot at lunch, sitting under his tree with a book. He glanced up when Naruto and Gaara approached, then returned to his reading, blatantly ignoring the both of them. Gaara chose not to impose on the dark-haired boy, sitting instead at a tree nearby. Naruto eagerly told Gaara all about his day so far, and Gaara ate his sandwich in silence, casting sidelong glances at Neji every now and again. 

Naruto finished the sandwich he'd brought for lunch, aiming and tossing the plastic bag he'd brought it in, but missing his target of the garbage can. He got up with a grumble to retrieve it, dumping it in the intended trash receptacle with more force than needed. He plopped down again next to Gaara with a huff. 

"You're quiet today," Naruto said. "You haven't warned me even once that you might kill me. Say something, damn it." 

Gaara thought about that, then obligingly said, "I'll kill you."

"Say something _else._"

"There's not much to say." And he certainly wasn't going to tell Naruto about his dream. So he picked a different topic. "I got a new book." He pulled the leather bound volume out of his backpack, handing it over to Naruto. "Orochimaru-sensei seemed pretty convinced I'd enjoy it." 

Naruto paged through it, his expression brightening with interest. "This is cool! It's got ninjas!" 

The first chapter of the book was labeled "Konohagakure: The Village Hidden in the Leaves." The book appeared to be written by hand, in carefully precise lettering. There were also quite a few detailed illustrations. There were maps, drawings of ninja gear and weaponry. There were several references and explanatory diagrams for an odd force called "chakra." Naruto flipped though the book with undisguised fascination, reading a paragraph or two on every page, as though he could take in the entire content of book at once. He paused on an illustrated page, one part of the picture ripped away. The remaining illustration depicted five people in old-fashioned formal robes, four men and a woman. The caption read, "The six Hokage of Konoha." 

"One of them is missing," Naruto said, pointing to the ripped section of the page. "Why would somebody tear the last one out of the picture?"

Gaara shrugged. "Maybe they didn't vote for him." 

Naruto just frowned and continued to flip the pages. He paused every now and again to read a word or two, but mostly he just looked at the pictures, examining the portraits of ninja heroes long passed. 

"I know this place," Naruto muttered, scowling in concentration. "I know these people."

"I don't think any of the so-called history in that book really happened," Gaara said. "It's probably some scheme to make me pay more attention in class." 

"That's him!" Naruto exclaimed. He pointed excitedly at one of the illustrations. "It's Kyuubi!"

The picture Naruto was pointing at seemed to be of some ferocious fox-looking creature, with red eyes, many sharp teeth, and nine long waving tails. Definitely not the sort of thing you'd want to meet alone in a dark alley. The caption under the picture was indeed labeled, "Demon Kyuubi, the Nine-Tailed Fox."

"That… isn't possible," said Gaara, rereading the caption. Either Naruto had somehow long ago incorporated this mythology into his personal delusions, or the book was written by a madman. There was no way there could be an actual written record of Naruto's insanity-born "demon." This wasn't _proof._

"I bet yours is here too!" Naruto proclaimed. 

He began skipping through whole passages of the book looking for the right section; Gaara doubted Naruto even knew which section was the right one. Gaara caught a word or two of the text as the passages skipped by, strange words that nonetheless had an odd feeling of… familiarity. "Sunagakure." "Kazekage." "Shukaku."

"Stop!" Gaara demanded. He all but ripped the book from Naruto's hands, staring at the page the book was open to. 

The creature illustrated there certainly looked demonic. Unlike the other, this only had one tail. The entire beast vaguely resembled a sandy-brown raccoon, but it was no shy, cuddly forest animal. It was powerfully built, with sharp teeth and claws, and malicious sunken red eyes. It was an animal made for fury and destruction; a monster that would kill for the pure enjoyment of it. The caption under the picture read, "Demon Shukaku."

"_Damn," _Shukaku lamented. _"That picture makes my ass look huge."_


	6. Placebo

"You're a demon," said Gaara.

"_Uh, yeah,"_ said Shukaku.

"A real, live demon," said Gaara.

"_The 'live' part is debatable, actually,"_ said Shukaku, _"but otherwise, yeah."_

"A demon," said Gaara. "Just like the book says. Like Naruto said. An actual demon."

"_Yeah, yeah, I'm a demon! Quit asking already, sheesh,"_ Shukaku said. _"I know it's a lot for your tiny mortal brain to comprehend, but get over it, will ya? I'm a demon, Kyuubi's a demon, end of story. Happy now?"_

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Gaara demanded. "You let me think I was crazy! All this time I thought I did bad things because my brain was defective, and all along it's been because of some supernatural evil residing in my head!"

"_Okay, first of all, I didn't know I was a demon to begin with. I didn't know _what_ I was. I woke from a long, dark sleep, with only a name and a lot of rage, and that's about it. Memories of my demonic nature surfaced later," _said Shukaku. _"And secondly, I let you think you were crazy because it was pretty damned funny." _

Gaara and Shukaku were holding this conversation in a locked stall of the third floor boy's bathroom. Lunch had ended twenty minutes earlier, but Gaara had ended up wandering in the opposite direction of his Language Arts classroom, in search of a refuge where he could think in private. And demand a few answers from the resident voice in his head.

Or rather, the resident _demon_ in his head. This was going to take a while to get used to.

"_I don't see why you're stressing," _the demon said with a reasonable tone. _"This is all semantics. What you call me isn't going to change anything. Nothing is different. According to the rest of the world, you are still crazy, and I'm nothing but an auditory hallucination. Might as well give that book back to your snake of a teacher, and forget all about it."_

Gaara looked down at the book in his hands, a book filled with such strange and confusing stories, and knew he wasn't ready to give it up yet. There was something to all of this, some mystery that he and Shukaku were a part of. Naruto and Kyuubi too, and Neji. And who knew how many others? Maybe everything was some big past-life conspiracy.

"_Now you're being paranoid," _said Shukaku. _"This morning you didn't even believe there was such a thing as demons. Suddenly you've got a whole host of conspiracy theories."_

"Well, it was a damn lot easier when I was just an ordinary schizophrenic psychopath," Gaara admitted. "At least they have medication for that, even if I don't take it. I don't even know what to _do _about a demon. Maybe I should get an exorcist."

"_Sorry, not that kind of demon."_

"But there is a way to get rid of you, right?"

"_If I knew, don't you think I'd tell you? I'm not thrilled with the living conditions either, you know. It's cramped in here, and the smell's not great either."_

Before Gaara could think of what to say to that, there was a curt knock on the door of his bathroom stall. "Hey. Are you going to be in there all day?"

Gaara hurriedly stuffed the leather-bound book back into his bag. He hadn't even heard the other occupant come into the bathroom. He flushed the toilet quickly, even though he hadn't actually used it, and let himself out of the stall. Only to find himself face-to-face with Neji.

Neji looked briefly startled to see him as well, but the expression was soon hidden by indifference. Gaara just stood there, trapped by that shifting iridescent gaze. Scenes from his latest dream skipped through his head; Neji laid out on the sand. Neji, covered in blood. Neji, dead.

"Excuse me," Neji finally broke the silence.

"Huh?" was Gaara's so-eloquent reply.

Neji indicated the bathroom stall Gaara had just vacated. "That's the only stall in here with a door that locks. The rest are broken."

"Oh." Gaara realized he was still standing in Neji's way. He quickly stepped out of the path. "Sorry."

Neji just stepped inside the stall without another word to Gaara, closing the door and locking it. Gaara moved to the sink to wash his hands, staring at his reflection in the streaked and spotted mirror.

"_Damn it," _thought Gaara to Shukaku. _"Do you think he heard what we were talking about?"_

"_Well, I can guarantee he didn't hear any of what _I _said,"_ replied the demon.

"_He probably thinks I'm crazy now."_

"_He wouldn't exactly be wrong if he did, now would he?"_ Shukaku said. _"Ought to head to class now, anyway. If you're still here when he gets out, he might start thinking you're stalking him. Though he might be right in that, too."_

"_Hey, I was in here first, remember?"_ Gaara said. _"Maybe he's stalking me, ever think of that?"_

"_Yeah, you wish."_

The demon was right about one thing, though; Gaara didn't really think he wanted to still be here when Neji emerged. Neji probably wouldn't say anything to him; he seemed adept at ignoring things he didn't want to deal with. But Gaara wasn't sure he wanted to face him like this. Not with the blood-stained dream vision still haunting him. Not until he really figured out what was going on, and how he and Neji fit into it.

Gaara opened the door to leave, almost wincing at the way its hinges squealed in protest. The third floor bathroom sure was rundown. He wandered down the hallway without a particular destination in mind. Probably he ought to take Shukaku's advice and go to class. Maybe if he told the teacher he'd gotten _really_ lost on his way in from lunch, they'd excuse the fact that he'd already missed half the class period.

On the other hand, it would probably be easier to just go find another bathroom to hide out in.

_.x.x.x._

Gaara ended up spending the rest of fourth period in the boys' bathroom on the second floor. He considered spending the rest of the day there, too. If he made a habit of missing his classes, he might be kicked out of school for poor attendance, rather than for having maimed someone. And wouldn't that be a nice change of pace?

Despite such frivolous musings, though, he did end up attending his final two periods. Gym class he spent as a non-participant watching from the sidelines, and received no trouble from the teacher; Shiten-sensei had a policy of never forcing a student to take part in the class. If they wanted to fail, he had explained on the first day of class, then let them fail; it didn't matter to him one way or another. Art class involved a great many stick-figure people, drowning in a sea of their own watercolored blood. Gaara's highly nervous and sensitive art teacher muttered something about it being very "poignant," and left him alone for the rest of the class.

The final bell rang at last, the school building releasing its imprisoned students out upon to world to pursue their own afternoon pastimes, with one last looming reminder that they were all expected back again in the morning.

Gaara didn't see Naruto amidst the crowds as he exited the building, a small relief. Naruto had made a big deal over the book Orochimaru-sensei had given to Gaara, and Gaara just wasn't in the mood to deal with the blonde's enthusiasm right now. He had a lot to figure out about all of this, and while Naruto's- and therefore, Kyuubi's- insights might be useful, Gaara felt it better if he tried working it out for himself.

"_Or maybe you're just isolating yourself because you're scared of what you'll find out,"_ Shukaku said.

His brother and sister caught up with him as he headed away from the school. For a few minutes, Temari filled the awkward silence with anecdotes about her day, the people she'd met, and who-said-what girlie gossip. Gaara wasn't really listening, and Kankuro gave no indication that he was, either. In the end, her stories petered off, and the three walked without talking, each alone with their own thoughts.

Gaara as usual walked in front, and eventually his siblings realized the direction he was leading was not the way to their house. Gaara could sense the moment the mood changed, when their hackles rose, wary of where he was going and what he was intending. It was their duty to protect him, or perhaps to protect everyone else _from_ him. Still, it seemed for several moments that they did not have the nerve to question him.

Oddly, it was Kankuro who finally asked the question. "Where are we going, anyway?"

Whatever they had expected, it was not what Gaara answered. "The library. There's something I need to research."

The city's public library was relatively small, and clearly no longer as well-funded as it once had been. The lighting inside wasn't great, but the windows were clean and the afternoon sunshine shone in on the space cramped with its many bookcases. There were no computers, as some of the newer libraries boasted. There were, however, some comfortable looking padded chairs clustered in one corner, their only occupant an extremely well fed orange tabby cat, which blinked sleepily at the three of them when they entered.

Not knowing what else to do, Temari wandered over to visit with the cat, which, when she didn't attempt to usurp its throne, deigned to allow her to pet it. When it seemed Gaara was not planning on causing trouble, Kankuro wandered off in another direction, inspecting books at random.

Gaara meandered down the cramped little aisles as well, looking over the various titles to determine the subject matter in each section. Despite its size, the library seemed to carry a diverse selection of topics. The sections of fiction he ignored completely, wandering past the sciences, arts and histories without finding anything that piqued his interest.

The section of occult books was so small, he almost walked right past it without noticing. Its shelves held the requisite number of books regarding feng shui, books on love spells for fawning adolescent girls, and what appeared to be a slightly scorched Satanist Bible. In the midst of all this garbage, Gaara found what he was looking for. It was a slim little paperback, entitled, "Remembering Your Past Lives."

"_Great, like you don't suck enough in this life already,"_ said Shukaku. _"Now you want to remember how much of a loser you were in previous lives, too."_

"_I would have thought you'd be interested in recovering your own memories," _Gaara said. _"At least, in remembering who betrayed us and how. But if you don't care…"_ He moved to put the book back in its place on the shelf.

Shukaku growled. _"Fine. Get the damned book."_

Gaara smiled slightly, book in hand as he moved to the check-out desk. Maybe Naruto was right; when you knew how to handle them, demons were kind of easy.

At the desk, Gaara was issued a library card and he checked out the book he'd chosen. He left the library without a word to either of his siblings, and he was already halfway down the block before the two even realized he was gone, and ran to catch up with him.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Temari asked as they walked. "Is this for some school project? It's a little early in the year for them to be giving you so much homework…"

"It's not for school," Gaara said. "It's a… personal interest."

That ended Temari's questioning, leaving both her and Kankuro perhaps a bit stunned. Gaara knew he'd never done something like this before; he was not the sort to visit a library, or to express any personal interest in _anything_. Over the years, when not in school, Gaara would usually just quarantine himself in his room. As far as his siblings knew, Gaara spent all his free time lost in his own headspace, conversing with the malevolent Shukaku. They didn't even know about the doodles he did in class. Gaara imagined, except for the times when he was causing bodily harm to others, he must seem to most people to be incredibly dull.

"_You are,"_ said Shukaku. _"Living with you is so boring, I could gouge out my own eyes. Or, preferably, someone else's." _

The afternoon light was dimming, as smoky gray clouds moved in across the sky. From the look of them, Gaara guessed that it would probably rain sometime that evening. It was a prelude to the season's inevitable end; summer would soon be over, and a rainy autumn would lead in to a cold and miserably damp winter.

They reached their house, Temari unlocking the door and letting them inside. They went their separate ways then; Kankuro straight to the kitchen for an after-school snack, Temari into the little first floor office to start in on her homework, and Gaara to the private sanctuary of his room.

He closed the door and flipped the light switch; the overhead light flashed then burned out with a _pop,_ returning the room to darkness. Gaara scowled, moving instead to turn on the small desk lamp that sat on his dresser, and opened the window to let in the gloomy gray outside light. It wasn't much, but it would be enough to read by for a while.

He dumped the contents of his backpack onto the bed. There wasn't much to sort through, since he'd left all of his textbooks in his locker. Various loose sheets of paper went fluttering in random directions; most of these were homework, and therefore unimportant. His notebook he regarded for a moment, flipping through its pages to reexamine his doodled death and destruction, before returning it to his bag. The bottle of sand he always carried with him, along with the one Naruto had given to him, he set on the nightstand. Broken pencils, loose change, and other accumulated odds and ends were all brushed off the mattress and onto the floor, to be kicked under the bed to join the dust bunnies at a later date.

With everything now settled, he flopped down on the bed with his two books to read. After considering which to start with, he opened "A Brief History of the Hidden Villages." He skipped over the first several chapters, beginning to read the chapter on Sunagakure.

It was this section that intrigued him the most, even beyond its mentions of the demon Shukaku. Of the demon, in fact, it said little, other than that it was a very ancient, destructive creature that had once stalked the desert, prior to being sealed away forever. It was not just the history of this place that interested Gaara, though the chronicles of this village of desert ninja were fascinating indeed. It was the sense of familiarity he got from the stories, the curious feeling that he'd once known this, but couldn't quite recall from where.

He flipped through the section detailing the personages of the Kazekages of Sunagakure. According to the book, the Kazekage was leader of this particular village, just as the Hokage was for Konohagakure. The people to hold this position were considered to be the very best ninja the village had to offer, and their accomplishments were the makings of legends. They were heroes.

As he read through the section, looking at the portraits of these renowned men, the first three only brought a faint recognition, and he passed them by without lingering on any of them. The fourth made him pause, and frown. This one had a definite feeling of familiarity, and a rather pronounced dislike of the man. He couldn't say why, but the fourth Kazekage was a man Gaara would not care to know.

The sense of familiarity sharpened dramatically as he read the accounting of the life of the fifth, and apparently last, Kazekage of Sunagakure. As a child, the fifth Kazekage was barely human, prone to incredible violence, slaughtering people at the smallest provocation. His fury and hatred knew no bounds, and his heart knew no mercy. When it became clear the boy was too hard to control or contain, the people of Suna tried to have him killed, but all attempts failed. This lasted until the boy was barely a teenager, at which point the violence just… stopped.

That point in the accounting was very unclear, as if some important details of the story were simply omitted. The boy's ninja team had left the village for some unspecified mission, and when the boy returned, he had changed. His fury had calmed, his hatred locked away. He trained, grew stronger, and was eventually chosen as the fifth Kazekage.

Gaara turned the page to the next illustration. Instead of the stiff formal portrait of the fifth Kazekage, as there had been of the others, this depicted two people in relaxed, intimate postures. Two people that Gaara recognized instantly.

"It's me," Gaara murmured, tracing a fingertip over those familiar features, the face he saw every day in the mirror. "And Neji." The face he saw every night in his dreams.

They weren't precisely the same as their modern-day counterparts. They were both older. Neji's hair was a little longer, and there was an odd design limned in green on his forehead, some sort of tattoo. They both also had the kanji for love- _ai_- drawn in red on their foreheads. They stood closely together, comfortable in each other's presence. Their expressions were… peaceful. The caption read, "The Last Kazekage, and his husband, Neji Hyuuga."

There was a flash of light from outside, and the little lamp beside the bed flickered. Gaara blinked, glancing out the window. More time had passed than he'd realized. It was raining now, and the flash of lightning was soon followed by its accompanying thunder. Gaara realized his heartbeat was racing and his breathing was short, as though he'd been running. His hands were shaking as he held the book.

"Enough of that." He closed the volume quickly, setting the book to the side.

Gaara felt frayed inside, emotions tumbling over each other, everything he was once sure of dissolving into uncertainty. The Kazekage? Could he have really been that… that creature? That young, remorseless murderer? And what could have brought him back from the brink of that madness, change him from the terror of the village into its protector?

What was this Kazekage really like, that Neji Hyuuga could love him?

Gaara's heartbeat was calming now, and he glanced at the leather bound book in thoughtful contemplation. The person he had been, if he really was once the Kazekage, must have been extraordinary, if Neji had married him. He wondered if it was crazy to be jealous of his own past life.

There had been more left to read in the chapter of Sunagakure, but Gaara decided he'd had enough of that book for the moment. It was unnerving, reading about a place he may have once lived in, in another life. Of the person he might once have been. Of the life- and love- he once had. The sense of connection he felt to this bizarre past was intense.

"_Which leads me to wonder,"_ Shukaku spoke for the first time since he'd started reading, _"how much this Orochimaru-sensei really knows. It's an odd coincidence that he would just give you this book, essentially a biography of your past self."_

Gaara frowned, and shrugged it off. "Maybe he just noticed the similarity between me and the Kazekage in the picture. He's a history teacher; he probably has a ton of weird books like this."

"_I can't decide if your gullibility is cute or infuriating,"_ said the demon. _"Though my vote's for infuriating." _

Gaara didn't bother getting into a sniping match with the demon. Maybe Orochimaru-sensei really did know more than he was telling, or maybe it really was all a coincidence. Gaara wasn't sure what to believe anymore, but he decided it didn't really matter. What mattered now was somehow making sense of this mystery of his past self, and a book of abstract history could only get him so far. What he really needed was to remember it for himself.

He picked up the little paperback he'd gotten from the library. It didn't look like much, really. Certainly not like it could possibly hold the key to remembering a lifetime that may or may not exist. But he needed some answers, and this was the best lead he had. He opened up the small book and began to read.

"With the extreme exception of newly formed souls," the first chapter began, "all human spirits have gone through several lifetime cycles. Some souls will reincarnate on this earth endlessly, never moving on to a higher plane of existence, while some pass through only a handful of lives before moving on to a final destination, be it a form of Heaven or Hell. It is possible, through a form of meditative self-hypnosis, for a person to recall his or her previous lifetimes.

"In order to delve into these forgotten memories, one must first understand the structure of their soul. A human spirit is made up of three major layers, which are in turn made up of multiple smaller layers; the uppermost layer, or Conscious Layer, is the life you are living now. With each reincarnation, the Conscious Layer is wiped clean of all previous memories, to begin the new life with a blank slate. Next is the Subconscious Layer, also known as the dream layer. It holds no memories, but serves as a buffer between the Conscious Layer, and the deepest layer, that of the Self.

"The Self is the essential soul, and it contains the memories of all previous lifetimes the soul has passed through. Most humans never access their Self, but depending on the strength of that Self, it will leak into the Subconscious Layer, causing unusual dreams and often the sense of déjà vu in the waking world. A person with an extremely heightened Self will often connect with the Self's prior memories when performing tasks they had done regularly in a previous life, or meeting someone they once were close to from a prior reincarnation."

Personally, it sounded a lot more like mystical garbage to Gaara, rather than scientific fact. Though at this point, he wasn't sure he was in any kind of position to make those kind of judgments. He had to admit, it did bear some similarities to his current condition. He had to wonder where they got their information from, though.

The chapter went on to explain the first, rudimentary method of connecting to the Subconscious Layer, and through it, to the Self. This too sounded kind of hokey, but Gaara decided it was worth a try. There wasn't any one around to make fun of him if he failed. Except Shukaku of course, but the demon was probably planning to make fun of him either way.

"_I'm flattered you think so highly of me," _Shukaku said.

Gaara sat the book to one side, lying on his back, waiting until all the muscles settled and relaxed completely. He closed his eyes and took long, deep breaths. The book's prescribed method of connecting to the self said to "listen to the beating of your heart, picturing the pulse as a thread connecting the three layers of the spirit. Tuning out all other thoughts, attempt to slow both your breathing and pulse until they are in tandem. This focus will open the first gateway into the Subconscious Layer."

Gaara lay still, trying to match his breathing to his heartbeat. _"This is so stupid," _was his last conscious thought.

_.x.x.x._

Gaara was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming, but it didn't feel like any dream he'd had before. It wasn't his usual dream, where he was standing out in the desert, under the glaring sun. In this dream he was inside, and it was dark, night. He lay in an unfamiliar bed, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. There was the soft moan of the wind outside, soft but unceasing. There was another sound as well, a gentle rushing or hum, like the ocean. Turning his head, he located the source of the second sound; an odd misshapen gourd, plugged with a cork, that sat next to the bed. As Gaara stared, the sound from the gourd became a purr, like it was greeting him.

The bed shifted, and Gaara realized he was not alone in the bed. Gaara sat up and turned slowly, partly afraid, partly expectant of whom he might find beside him. Dark hair was spread on the pillow, black in the dimness of the room, but Gaara knew in the sunlight it would be the color of dark chocolate. Neji lay there in peaceful repose, curled partly on one side, breathing even in his sleep. He was so pale, even in the darkness, pristine and perfect. And, it appeared, naked. They both were, Gaara realized with some horrified fascination.

If this _was_ a dream, Gaara was not sure he wanted to wake up.

It shouldn't really surprise him that he was dreaming about Neji, though, despite its unusual setting. He had, after all, been dreaming about Neji his entire life.

In the dark, it was hard to see the odd limned design that marked Neji's forehead, but Gaara could faintly make out the other mark, the kanji for love. He reached out hesitantly, and gently traced the lines. It was a scar, Gaara realized, not a tattoo as he'd previously thought. Perhaps the matching kanji on the fifth Kazekage had also been a scar, and he wondered who had cut those marks into their skin, and why.

Despite the lightness of Gaara's caress, Neji stirred at the touch, opening his eyes. Neji's opal eyes caught any hint of light within the room, reflecting it back with eerie luminescence, like a cat's. Gaara expected some extreme reaction, some freakout on Neji's behalf upon finding them in bed together, but Neji just smiled gently at him, sitting up.

"Is everything all right?" Neji spoke softly, with genuine concern. "Has Shukaku been teasing you again?"

"Um, no, he's quiet…" Which was true, Gaara realized; he hadn't heard a word from Shukaku about any of this. But then, Shukaku had never been in his dreams. It had always been just Neji, but even in his dreams before, Neji had always been so aloof and unreachable. Never like this, so… caring. "Neji? Why… are you here?"

Neji looked a little confused at the question. "I told you I didn't have a mission tonight, don't you remember? Are you certain you're feeling alright?"

"I don't feel quite like myself," Gaara admitted. This, he knew, was not his life. This was a previous incarnation of Gaara, but it wasn't really _him._

"Who do you feel like, then?" Neji asked.

"I don't know," said Gaara, shaking his head. "I don't know _who_ I am."

"You are Gaara," Neji said. He reached out, tracing a pattern on Gaara's forehead, the lines for the kanji _ai._ "You are the Kazekage. You are Shukaku's vessel. You are mine."

And Neji kissed Gaara then, as though he'd done so a hundred times before. But to Gaara, it was the very first time. While his mind froze up in shock, his body responded as if it were perfectly natural for Neji to be kissing him. Gaara had never realized how so simple a gesture of affection could play such havoc with his emotions. He'd never realized it could be so perfect.

Gaara was afraid- and a little hopeful- that Neji would take it further than just kissing. Instead, they just ended curled up together, Neji's eyes sleepily half-closed, idly petting Gaara's hair. Gaara was distinctly aware of every point of contact his skin made to Neji's, how right it felt to be held by him. This was the nicest dream Gaara had ever had.

Neji's hand stilled, and it seemed he had drifted into a half-sleeping doze. Gaara just watched him, memorizing the peaceful expression on Neji's face. "Neji?" he finally whispered.

"mmm?" Neji murmured.

Gaara closed his eyes, savoring the warmth shared between them. "I think I may be in love with you."

Neji smiled, pulling Gaara a little closer. "Love you, too."

The words were sweet, but Gaara knew they were untrue. Neji loved the fifth Kazekage, and Gaara knew, despite the Self they might share, he was not him.

_.x.x.x._

So unaware and so comfortable Gaara was in his sleep, that when even a soft knock rapped at the door, he snapped wide awake and nearly tumbled off the bed.

"Gaara?" Temari's voice asked from the other side of the door. "Aren't you coming down to breakfast? You're going to be late…"

Gaara's gaze flew to the clock. It was morning. He'd slept the night through without realizing it, and he hadn't set his alarm clock the night before.

"I'll be down in a minute," Gaara said, taking a deep breath as he waited for the adrenalin surge to fade. He hated being startled awake.

A soft hissing sound caught Gaara's attention. He frowned, looking over at the nightstand where the two bottles of sand sat. Contained within each soda bottle now were miniature sandstorms, whirling around in tiny twin tornadoes. _All on their own._

"Shukaku?" Gaara whispered, staring at the two bottles. As he watched it, the whirling storms settled, and sand was just sand once more. "Is it supposed to do that?"

"…_nuhhh," _mumbled the demon, clearly not awake enough to be coherent. _"…jus' five more minutes; sleepy…"_

Shukaku wouldn't be of any use to him until it woke up a little more. Gaara picked up one of the innocuous bottles and gave it a shake, but the sand did not resume its storm, merely sloshed around as any normal sand would. Nor did its companion seem any more inclined to move on its own. Gaara eyed both bottles suspiciously, before tucking them into their customary places in his backpack. He would just have to ask Shukaku about it later. Assuming the demon was willing to tell him.

As Temari had said, he would indeed be late if he didn't hurry. He rushed through his morning routines, skipping his cereal and grabbing his toast to munch on the walk to school. His siblings were watching him oddly that morning; he'd never slept in like that before, and it wasn't like him to be late.

They wouldn't need to run to be on time, but still Gaara walked a little faster as they headed to school that morning. The rain had stopped sometime during the night, and the sun was out, gleaming wetly on the still-soaked streets. The sidewalk became a little more crowded as they neared the school, the last-minute stragglers also trying to make it to their first classes on time.

Someone came running down the sidewalk toward Gaara and his siblings, someone familiar looking, though Gaara couldn't quite place them. They had their head down low, the hood from their dark blue sweatshirt mostly pulled over their black hair. Wasn't that the kid that hung around outside the school gate?

The boy bumped into Gaara on the way past, not even pausing to look or apologize. Gaara paused, watching them run off down the sidewalk, never looking back.

"_Rude,"_ Shukaku mumbled.

Gaara didn't reply to the demon, looking down at the crumpled piece of paper the boy had slipped into his hand when he'd bumped into him. It was a note, that read, "Skip second period and meet me outside the gate, I need to talk to you."

It was signed, simply, "Sasuke Uchiha."


	7. Experimental Proceedure

Naruto's dreams were, as usual, a confusing jumble of what he assumed to be memories of the time before, and symbolism that could mean anything, really. He saw faces he almost recognized, and scenes from a life he didn't remember living. Often he would spot Kyuubi in the distance, but try as he might, he could never catch up to the fox. Always, in the end, Naruto was alone.

In his dream, Kyuubi turned to look at him, his voice carrying over the distance that separated them. _"Wake up,"_ came the voice on the wind. _"It's time to wake up."_

Naruto ran on through the forest, the branches whipping at his skin. His dreaming self was but a child, and he knew he had no hope of keeping up with the demon. Kyuubi stood at the horizon, silvered in the moonlight. Naruto's only friend had left him. "Come back, Kyuubi," the child-Naruto whispered in the dark. "Don't leave me here…"

"_Wake up,"_ Kyuubi said, clearly irritated now. _"Turn the damned alarm clock off before I break it."_

Naruto opened his eyes, to the familiar padded walls of his room. The insistent beeping of his alarm clock registered at last- he'd slept through it again, and Kyuubi hated it when he did that. If he didn't hurry, he was going to miss breakfast, might, in fact, miss out on getting a packaged lunch to take to school. It was just another morning at the Crazy House.

The Alecander Memorial Asylum for Boys was where Naruto had ended up after several failed attempts at placing him with a foster family. The facility was something of a cross between a foster home, a psych ward, and a prison. A wide variety of boys ended up in Alecander's, from juvenile delinquents with anger management issues, to truly diabolical sociopaths. Even harmless schizophrenics like Naruto.

He didn't really remember the time before he ended up in Alecander's Asylum so well. He didn't remember anything about his family; his father had died shortly before he was born, and his mother died soon after. But Kyuubi had been with him, even at that time, though the demon had been different then. Naruto's first memories of Kyuubi from his early childhood were of a frightened, enraged animal, trapped in a corner and lashing out at everything. Reincarnation was apparently very traumatic for the demon.

"_I wasn't myself," _Kyuubi had explained, years later, about that period in their life. _"I didn't know where I was, or who I was. I had no form of my own, and you were just a child, innocent and helpless. There were voices saying things I didn't understand, people I did not recognize, and they kept trying to take you places, touch you. I had to protect you from them." _

And that was how Naruto had ended up in the Crazy House. In those days, when Naruto was only a child, Kyuubi hadn't had the strength to manifest as often as he did now. But every time Kyuubi had asserted himself had led to violence, and with Naruto as his vessel, would bite and claw at his foster family, the social workers, or anyone else that came too close, including other children. As Naruto grew older and stronger, so did Kyuubi, and the incidents became more frequent and more ferocious. Naruto was deemed ill-suited for a family environment, and was sent to the asylum for diagnosis and treatment.

At that point in his life, while other kids his age were starting kindergarten, Naruto spent his days in a barren, padded room, under the constant surveillance of the Alecander Memorial Asylum staff. Naruto had been frightened, not understanding why he'd been moved from family to family, and finally to this cold and bleak place, but Kyuubi had viewed that tiny, locked room as a sort of den, a place where they were at last safe, and the demon began to calm down. There were still some problems when the nurses came to give Naruto his medication, but now that Kyuubi no longer spent all his time trying to keep himself and Naruto "safe," he began to recover his voice, and bit by bit, some of his forgotten memories.

Naruto had been thrilled when the demon had started to talk with him. It was great to finally have a friend. Together, they decided the medical staff at the asylum wasn't actually trying to hurt them; that Kyuubi had been protecting them from a danger that hadn't really existed.

Naruto had tried telling his doctors that it was okay to let him out now- that he and Kyuubi weren't crazy. They'd wanted to know who Kyuubi was, so Naruto had told them all about the demon in his head, and how Kyuubi had only been mean to everybody because he'd been scared and confused, but he was better now. He even told them about the bits of memory Kyuubi had regained, about the time before. But even after he'd explained himself, they hadn't let him out. Instead, Naruto was given a new medication, and sent to daily therapy sessions.

It didn't take him too long to realize they still thought he was crazy, and had labeled him with some mental disease that he couldn't even pronounce. They weren't going to believe him, and they weren't going to let him out.

"_And where would we go if they did?" _Kyuubi had asked him one night. _"This is our home now. We're safe here."_

But if they could get out, maybe Naruto could have friends, he had argued. Maybe he could have a family.

"_You could," _Kyuubi had agreed quietly. _"But what about me?"_

To get out of the asylum, Naruto would have to pretend that Kyuubi wasn't real, to make them think that he was sane. He could have friends and family only if he never talked about the demon, or the past life that it remembered. He would have to ignore the voice he heard in his head, ignore Kyuubi's very existence. Naruto could only gain the freedom he craved, if he denied Kyuubi the little freedom it had.

"I wouldn't do that to you," Naruto had promised the demon. "If they let me out, they're letting us both out. I won't pretend you're not there. Any family we end up with will just have to accept that it's you and me together."

"_You and me together,"_ Kyuubi had agreed. Naruto imagined that he could hear it smiling.

Once Kyuubi had stopped biting people on sight, Naruto's doctors had assumed the medications were working, and over the years Naruto had been allowed more freedoms. Attempts had even been made a few times to get him back into the foster system, but with the stigma of "schizophrenic" still attached to him, no one had wanted to take Naruto in. So the asylum had become more or less Naruto's permanent home. Since he was no longer deemed a danger to himself or others, he was allowed things like furniture and personal effects, and he was no longer locked inside his room at all times. He had to be careful when wandering the halls of the asylum, though. The other people there were still crazy.

After some private tutoring at the asylum, it was decided Naruto was safe enough to attend public school. Though for the first few years, Naruto had not been allowed to go alone; one of the asylum's counselors had been with him at all times. Having a man in a white coat following him around the school had not been good for Naruto's reputation; the other children had immediately labeled Naruto as "the crazy kid," and stayed away from him. Even when he was away from the Crazy House, Naruto was kept separated from everything, excluded by his peers.

But things were better now, Naruto reminded himself. Kyuubi had always been with him, and now there was Gaara and Shukaku. They were a weird grouping, but they were his friends. He finally had friends.

"_Earth to Uzumaki!" _Kyuubi's voice broke into Naruto's reminiscence. _"Breakfast, remember?"_

Naruto scrambled out of bed, digging out his school uniform from the dresser crammed into one of the corners and getting dressed. A glance at the clock assured him he still had a few minutes before the cafeteria closed, and he grabbed his backpack and ran out and down the hallway.

He'd long ago learned to tune out the noises of the asylum, muted echoes down the hallway from padded rooms; other patients babbling to themselves, or screaming, or just moaning in an endless, heartbroken way. There were so many here with _real_ mental illnesses, people who needed the medical care and counseling much more than Naruto did. It didn't seem right to him that the doctors waste so much time trying to cure his non-existent schizophrenia, when there were other people they could be helping.

Naruto barely made it to the cafeteria before it closed up, and he snagged his packaged lunch and some breakfast to munch on the way to school. He made a brief stop at the front desk in the lobby to sign out on the register, and finally escaped from the asylum's bland whiteness into the sunlit morning.

There was a definite bit of chill to the air, Naruto noticed, and the some of the leaves on the trees were taking on shades of gold and crimson. Autumn was beginning to make its presence known. Naruto jumped and snagged one of the newly red leaves off a tree as he passed by it, twirling it around by its stem. Maybe he'd give it to Gaara. He wondered if Gaara would even want it.

Come to think on it, Naruto didn't really know all that much about Gaara. Gaara hadn't told Naruto anything about his life or his interests, didn't say much of anything to Naruto at all, except to express the desire of murdering him. All Naruto knew about his friend was what little Kyuubi had remembered about the boy's past life.

"_He only puts up with you because he can't get rid of you,"_ Kyuubi pointed out. _"He and I have that much in common." _

"_You'd miss me if I were gone; don't even try to deny it,"_ Naruto replied. _"Do all demons pretend to be so damned antisocial, or did I just get lucky getting stuck with the one bastard of the bunch?"_

"_Consider it good fortune you ended up with me,"_ Kyuubi said in a superior tone. _"Could have gotten stuck with Shukaku. You wouldn't be living in an asylum if you had him in your head; you'd be in a prison awaiting the death penalty. Or already in a nice pine box, buried six feet under."_

"_Have a little more faith in me," _Naruto said. _"I bet I could hold out forever against Shukaku. I tamed you, didn't I?"_

"_He would eat you alive,"_ Kyuubi said with certainty. _"And if you ever call me 'tame' again, I'll break you myself."_

"_Right, right… nix on the 't'-word…"_ Naruto looked around, realizing that while he'd been caught up in talking to his demon and walking on autopilot, he'd arrived at the school without even noticing.

"…_I got paired with a real observant one,"_ Kyuubi muttered.

"_Shut up. Like you were paying any more attention to where we were going than I was…"_

"_I don't have to pay attention. I'm not the one in charge of making sure we don't run into telephone poles."_

As Naruto approached the school building, he let his gaze wander over the other students gathered out on the lawn, in case Gaara had already arrived. Gaara might not consider them to be friends, but Naruto still did, so the red head was just going to have to deal with it. Unfortunately, it didn't seem that Gaara was there yet that morning. Naruto did spot another familiar face, however; always somewhat apart from the crowds was Neji Hyuuga, walking toward the entrance.

Naruto didn't like Neji; his few encounters with the long-haired boy led Naruto believe that Neji was an over-educated jerk, and better avoided. Kyuubi found Neji amusing, and somewhat baffling. The demon remembered Neji, in a vague sort of way, and Kyuubi didn't think Neji had been like that when they'd known him in his previous incarnation. Naruto could only guess at what had happened to change him.

What Naruto did know was that Gaara had a weird obsession with Neji, and that Neji, the jerk, had hurt Gaara's feelings.

"Hey Neji!" Naruto dodged around the groupings of slower moving pedestrians. "I wanna talk to you!"

"_Why do you always insist on trying to embarrass yourself?" _Kyuubi groaned.

"_Shut up, fox; this is important."_

Neji paused and glanced over his shoulder when his name was called. When he saw who it was, however, he frowned and kept walking. Naruto caught up with him, grabbing Neji's shoulder and pulling the boy to a halt. Neji turned and looked at Naruto in impatient askance, waiting for the blonde to explain why he'd stopped him.

Naruto glared at that infuriatingly composed face, and blurted, "Gaara is my _friend._"

"Congratulations to you both," Neji said calmly. "You must be very happy together. Please let go of my arm."

"I'm not finished!" Naruto's grip tightened. "You may not believe that the dream he told you about has any meaning, but it means a lot to Gaara. _You_ mean a lot to Gaara, though I sure can't see why. I don't want you saying any more mean stuff to hurt him anymore. Promise me!"

"Your friend is delusional," Neji said. "And he's welcome to any hallucinations he likes, so long as he leaves me out of them. Dreams don't have mystical, deeper meanings, and it's impossible to dream about someone before you've met them. So I would appreciate it if you would both go play your little fantasy story somewhere else, and stop trying to drag me into it."

"Gaara isn't crazy, or delusional, and he's not making this stuff up! If he said he had that dream about you, then he did!" Naruto said. "Why can't you even consider for a second that you could be wrong? That some dreams could be _true?_"

"If I even considered the possibility that _my_ dreams could be true," Neji said, "I would end up as insane as you and Gaara." He brushed Naruto's hand off of his shoulder, turned his back on him, and walked up the steps to the school entrance.

Naruto just stood where he was and watched him, the full implications of what Neji said slowly sinking in. "That wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing!" Naruto yelled after him. But of course Neji had already gone inside.

"What wouldn't be a bad thing?" a voice asked from behind Naruto.

Naruto jumped, startled, whirling around. "Uh, hey Gaara. When'd you get here?"

"Just now," Gaara said. He glanced toward the school entrance, then returned his gaze to Naruto. "Who were you talking to?"

"Oh, um, nobody. Just some guy, we had… kind of a disagreement."

"_Understatement of the year…"_ Kyuubi said.

"_Shut up, you. It wasn't that bad…"_ Naruto kept his grin firmly in place, hoping Gaara wouldn't notice he was lying and get suspicious.

But Gaara didn't seem to care much who Naruto had been yelling at. Gaara attention had turned to a tiny crumpled scrap of paper he held in his hand. "Naruto, do you know somebody named Sasuke Uchiha?"

"You talked to him?" Naruto asked in surprise. "Wow, didn't think he talked to anybody anymore."

"He didn't talk to me; he ran into me, then ran off. Didn't say anything." Gaara shrugged.

Naruto frowned at him. "Then how did you know his name?"

"He handed me this." Gaara showed him the note. "Apparently he has something he wants to talk to me about, without an audience. Can't imagine what, though."

"That's just like him, trying to be all mysterious." Naruto read the short note over twice, then handed it back. "Maybe he's got a demon too?"

"_I think I would have noticed if he did,"_ Kyuubi said. _"Pretty sure your jerkwad friend is one hundred percent demon-free."_

"_Sasuke's not my friend,"_ Naruto pointed out, unnecessarily, to Kyuubi. To Gaara, he said, "So are you going to go talk to him?"

Gaara looked at the innocuous little note in his hand for a long, contemplative moment, then crumpled it up and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. "No. He doesn't interest me. I don't care what he has to say."

"Really? I'd be interested. I'd like to know what made him suddenly drop out like he did. And why he keeps coming back and hanging out around the gate. Have you seen him out here? Like he's waiting for something."

Gaara shrugged. "I don't really care," he said, and headed for the school doors.

"_Well,"_ Kyuubi said as Naruto followed Gaara inside, _"hard to argue with apathy like that."_

_.x.x.x._

It took all of first period before Naruto finally admitted there was no way he'd be able to concentrate on his schoolwork today. His thoughts kept wandering back to the enigma that was Sasuke Uchiha. After removing himself from the student body and, as far as Naruto knew, avoiding contact with other students and possibly humanity in general, why would Sasuke suddenly decide he needed to talk to somebody? And not just any somebody, but _Gaara_, specifically?

"_Why not Gaara?"_ Kyuubi asked, as they took their seat in second period. _"Who should Sasuke talk to- you? You don't even like him."_

"_I know that,"_ Naruto replied, digging his notebook out of his backpack and glancing over the homework worksheet he'd only half completed. _"It just seems weird to me. Like a lot of things are happening all of a sudden, and they're all revolving around Gaara."_

Once the bell rang, Larise-sensei started her lecture with her usual punctuality. Naruto caught the first dozen words or so, before his attention inevitably wandered. He looked out the window, hardly surprised when he spotted Sasuke waiting out by the gate. After all, Sasuke was expecting to meet Gaara there. Naruto wondered how angry Sasuke would be when Gaara failed to show up.

But as Naruto watched, someone came out of the school building, walking across the lawn toward the gate. And Naruto would recognize that red hair anywhere.

"_Damn it, I thought he said he wasn't going!" _Naruto pushed his chair back without a care for how it squealed on the tiled floor, and ran for the door.

"Uzumaki!" Larise-sensei said, her voice sharp enough to make him pause, if only for a second. "_Where_ do you think you're going?"

"Gotta go bathroom real bad bye!" Naruto called over his shoulder, grabbing the hall pass off its hook before dashing out of the classroom. Larise-sensei could yell at him later when he came back for his backpack, but for now he had to get out to the gate. There was no way he was going to miss this.

Both Gaara and Sasuke looked over in surprise when Naruto came running out of the school building toward them. Their surprise was soon masked, Gaara's by indifference, Sasuke's by annoyance.

"Hey there, loser," Sasuke greeted when Naruto got to the gate. "Still failing most of your classes?"

"At least I still _go_ to class," Naruto said.

"_Present skipping of second period notwithstanding…"_ Kyuubi added.

"_I'm not skipping; I took a hall pass,"_ Naruto defended himself. He rounded on Gaara. "You said you weren't coming!"

"I changed my mind," Gaara said, as if that explained everything.

"This doesn't have anything to do with you, Naruto," Sasuke said. "Go back inside."

"Gaara's my friend, and anything you have to say to him, you can say to me!" Naruto said.

It looked as though Sasuke might argue, but Gaara cut him off. "Never mind him. You wanted to talk to me; I'm here. Say what you wanted to say so I can go back inside."

Sasuke gave Naruto a long look, as if contemplating if he still wanted to talk with the blonde there. In the end, he settled for ignoring him completely. "I want to know what you and Orochimaru have been talking about," he said to Gaara.

The question didn't seem to be what Gaara was expecting. "What we've been talking about?"

"I've seen you." Sasuke pointed up at one of the windows of the school building, looking into Orochimaru-sensei's classroom. Even from the gate, there was a pretty good view. "Last couple of days, you've talked with him after class. I want to know what he said."

"Nothing much," Gaara said. "I told him I thought his lectures were boring. He gave me a book, thought I might like it better. Something about ninjas."

When Gaara mentioned the book, Sasuke's interest was evident. "Let me see it," he demanded, holding out a hand as if expecting Gaara to just surrender the book on command.

"What's it to you anyway?" Naruto asked. "Gaara doesn't have to show you anything. You haven't even said why you're interested. Why do you care so much about what Gaara and Orochimaru-sensei were talking about?"

Sasuke glanced at Naruto, then looked to Gaara. But Gaara said nothing, apparently waiting to hear what Sasuke had to say for himself.

"My older brother, Itachi, used to come by and talk with Orochimaru a lot," Sasuke finally said. "Toward the end, it became almost an obsession. I never found out what they talked about; Orochimaru wouldn't tell me. He said if Itachi had wanted me to know, he would have told me himself."

"So what's the big deal?" Naruto said. "Why don't you just ask Itachi? Why wouldn't he tell you?"

"Itachi's dead. He committed suicide last year," Sasuke said. "And all this time, I've been trying to find out why."


	8. Hypothesis

There was a small, somewhat dingy greenhouse located on the other side of the school, for the use of the Botany class. The plants inside were mostly withered, dead from neglect over the summer vacation. The windows were tinged brown from dust, emitting a muted light into the interior. Gardening tools and empty containers and buckets crowded most of the free space on the floor. The whole place would need a good cleaning before the class would be able to make use of it. It was here that Gaara, Naruto and Sasuke had ended up, after Gaara suggested they move somewhere that they'd not be observed by anyone that happened to glance out a classroom window.

Sasuke had protested; he didn't think their conversation warranted continuing. If Gaara would just hand over the book he'd been given by Orochimaru, Sasuke would be on his way, and the two need never speak to each other again. It was Naruto that nixed that idea; he said Sasuke wouldn't be getting that book, or anything else for that matter, until he'd explained fully the circumstances surrounding Itachi and his suicide. Sasuke couldn't just give a cryptic statement like that and then _leave. _When Gaara gave no contradiction to Naruto's demand, Sasuke had reluctantly followed the both of them into the greenhouse's relative privacy.

"Alright," Naruto declared once they were all settled, the three of them having used a few overturned buckets as impromptu seats. "Start explaining this from the beginning. _All_ of it."

"_And use small words, so the dumb foxes in the audience will be able to understand,"_ Shukaku added.

Sasuke said nothing at first, studying a withered specimen of a tomato plant as though it could somehow give him the answers he was seeking. Naruto started shifting on the bucket he sat, impatience rising. It was clear at any moment, the blonde was going to snap at Sasuke for ignoring him. Gaara for his part was silent, considering Sasuke and the new element he presented to this strange mystery Gaara's life was shaping into.

Gaara hadn't intended to skip his class to come out and meet Sasuke. Not for any great love of attending said classes; he was no more likely to learn anything while in class than out of it. It was for the simple fact that Sasuke was a person, and Gaara should not be around people. Gaara had hurt too many people already. He hadn't known what Sasuke could possibly want from him, nor did he really care.

So he'd gone to second period, with no intention of leaving it before the class was over. When Orochimaru-sensei's lecture once more failed to interest him, he'd turned to "A Brief History of the Hidden Villages" to keep him occupied. He'd opened the book to a random section of the first chapter, flipping pages without much thought to what he was looking for. He'd ended up reading an article entitled, "Ten Most Notorious Missing-Nin of Konoha." Ranked at number one was listed "Sasuke Uchiha." According to the article, Sasuke had murdered his entire clan- every man, woman and child- before vanishing into the night, never to return to the village that had once been his home.

So Sasuke had been there too, in that time before, and as a hunted criminal, no less. Gaara had stared at that little snippet of information for several minutes, reading it over and over, as if the words would somehow change between each reading. And then he excused himself from the class, to go out and talk with the murderer at the gate.

Sasuke didn't much look like a murderer, Gaara reflected. Though looks, of course, could be deceiving. He may not have even killed anyone in this lifetime. But if somewhere in Sasuke's past self, he had been capable of such cold, calculated slaughter, Gaara guessed that potential was still there, festering somewhere beneath the subconscious, only waiting to be awakened.

Why that intrigued Gaara, he didn't know. Perhaps it was the possibility of meeting a kindred spirit.

"I'd like to think it all just started last year," Sasuke finally spoke into the silence. He didn't look at either Gaara or Naruto; it was as though he were talking to himself. "But I think it really started when Itachi and I were kids. He was several years older, but he never acted like he thought that made him better than me. It seemed like we were always together. We spent hours playing this stupid game we came up with, it was like a staring contest. He always won, because he could make his eyes change color, and it startled me every time."

"People can't make their eyes change color," Naruto interrupted.

"Do you want to hear this or don't you?" Sasuke demanded.

Naruto held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Alright, alright, sorry. Keep going."

Sasuke scowled at him, for a moment, before continuing. "Itachi _could_ make his eyes change color. They were black normally, but when we played our game, he could make them turn red. He said it was a special trick, just for us, and that if I kept it a secret from our parents, he'd teach me how to, too. It was a couple years before I finally managed it.

"But I started getting these bad dreams at night, and sudden lightning headaches during the day. Sometimes I'd black out for a second or two, it got so bad. One day, I was out on my bike and had a black out… and there was an accident. Got hit by a car. I was in a coma for nearly a week, and I had this dream…"

Sasuke cut off, shaking his head, as if he could somehow shake the memory away. "A nightmare. There was so much blood, and I think… I dreamed I'd killed someone. When I finally woke up in the hospital, Itachi was there. I was still badly shaken from the dream, so he tried to cheer me up. We played our staring game, and I tried to win by making my eyes change. But he didn't flinch. He just stared, and then he got this look… startled, maybe even frightened, and he left.

"The headaches never came back, and I recovered from the accident. But Itachi wasn't ever the same. For years after, he would either avoid me, or seek me out all of a sudden and want to play our staring game. And he always let me win. Then he started going to see Orochimaru, and he'd want to play the game more and more often. I don't know what they talked about, and I don't know what Itachi saw in my eyes that disturbed him so much. But I guess he couldn't take it in the end, because I found him in my room one day… dead. He'd slit his throat." Sasuke finally looked at them, and his gaze was unwavering and cold. "And now I have to know _why._ I have to know… if it was my fault."

"Did he leave a suicide note?" Gaara asked, speaking for the first time since Sasuke had begun his story.

"He'd hidden it, it a place he knew only I would find it," Sasuke said. "It didn't make any sense, though. He said that he'd lived too many lives, and had hurt me in every one of them. That this time he was going to finally make it to hell, and if I was lucky, in my next life I'd be an only child."

Naruto had a peculiar expression on his face following the conclusion of Sasuke's tale. He scooted his bucket-seat forward, frowning in intense concentration as he studied Sasuke's face. Sasuke scowled at him, as he ended up almost nose-to-nose with the blonde boy.

"Can you really make your eyes change color?" Naruto said at last.

"You loser!" Sasuke shoved Naruto away from him. Naruto ended up toppling off his bucket and onto the ground. "Is that _all_ you heard? Yes, my eyes change color!"

Naruto grinned up at him from where he'd been relocated to the floor. "Yeah? Prove it."

"Fine, whatever," Sasuke muttered. He took a deep breath, as if preparing for something.

For a second, nothing happened. And then his eyes really _changed_, the blackness of the iris seeming to melt away to reveal an intense, glittering crimson.

"Wow!" Naruto laughed. "Your eyes really do change color! That's so cool! Is red the only color you can do, or can they go through the whole rainbow? How do you do that?"

Sasuke's recolored eyes shot Naruto an annoyed glance. "Just red. And I don't know how it _works,_ just that it does. Itachi said it was as much a state of mind as anything." He let his eyes change back, the blackness once again engulfing the fiery crimson. "I've tried using a mirror to see what my brother saw in them, but it hasn't worked. All I see is me."

According to Sasuke, Itachi had said in his suicide note that he'd lived too many lives. Gaara remembered the little book he'd gotten at the library, and technique of self-hypnosis he'd used to connect with an alleged memory from his past life. If that's what Sasuke's changeable eyes could do, putting people in some kind of hypnotized state, perhaps it was memories of some past life Itachi had been seeing.

"I want to try it," Gaara said. When Sasuke and Naruto just looked at him blankly, Gaara clarified, "Your staring game, the one you played with Itachi."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Naruto said. "Whatever Itachi saw made him crazy. And I know you just figured out that you _aren't_ crazy, so you might not want to, you know, push it too much."

Gaara thought about the last dream-memory he had had of his past life, himself as the Kazekage, with Neji by his side. It had been so nice to be with him, to be loved by him. He wouldn't mind being there again. "If I see what I think I will," Gaara said, "I'll be fine."

Sasuke didn't look convinced, but finally accepted with a shrug. "Fine. Maybe it'll work for you."

They sat facing each other, their gazes held and locked. Gaara could see nothing but his own reflection in the inky black of Sasuke's eyes.

"Try not to blink." Sasuke took a breath, as his eyes shifted once more, black iris dissolving into its crimson counterpart.

Gaara didn't blink. He noticed, as he stared into seemingly endless crimson, that each of Sasuke's irises had three tiny marks. These three marks began to move, chasing one another around the pupil, their spinning rapidly picking up speed. It seemed as though the darkness of Sasuke's pupils encompassed Gaara's entire vision, and suddenly he was… elsewhere.

Gaara was falling, a hundred times falling though time and space. The dingy greenhouse was gone, Sasuke and Naruto were gone, the very laws of physics, of trivialities like "up" and "down" were gone. He felt like he was falling, but he wasn't even sure if he was moving. It was so dark in this place, but he caught sight of tiny stars winking at him from the edges of his vision, only to vanish if he tried to look at them. The darkness was so vast, untouchable, and yet it was smothering him. For a second, he couldn't even breathe.

And then it was over, and he opened his eyes.

He was struck by the strangest sensation, as though he was both himself, within his own mind, and outside of himself, a bystander to his own life. There were visions, memories of a life not his own, crowding against his thoughts, one life contradicting another, two people who were both Gaara trying to share the same mind. It was almost painful at first, trying to sort one life out from the other, but gradually the thoughts seemed to settle, agreeing to disagree. He was himself, Gaara, and in this place, he was also his past self, the Kazekage. Looking out through the eyes of his previous incarnation, Gaara looked around at where he'd ended up.

He was in a small room, not the same place he'd been in his other dream. It was the basement of his home, or rather, the Kazekage's home. He was laying on a bed that had been moved down here for his use. He was wearing metal handcuffs, with a chain trailing down from them to connect to a spike driven into the ground. The cuffs would not be able to hold him if he wanted them off, Gaara knew. But he had allowed them, allowed himself to be chained down here like an animal, because it reassured the villagers.

Somewhere upstairs a door opened, and there were footsteps on the stairs as Neji descended into the basement-turned-prison. He looked pale, paler than usual, wan from stress and fatigue. He offered Gaara a small smile as he came down to join him, probably more to reassure him than actual desire to smile.

"Naruto managed to get a letter smuggled into the village," Neji said by way of a greeting. "He says he, Shikamaru and a few of the others are still working to convince the other villages to end the quarantine, but they're not having much luck. Everyone is too afraid of the plague spreading out from Suna. A few of the foreign shinobi on the outside have been showing symptoms. They were neutralized immediately, of course."

Gaara felt like a spectator; the script to this play had been written long ago, and he would not be allowed to change the words. All he could do was watch, and say his lines.

"How's Kankuro?" Gaara, or the previous incarnation of Gaara, asked.

Neji shook his head. He looked so tired, pushed past all his limits. "He's entered the final stages. We've had to burn all his puppets just to keep him from killing the doctors. He doesn't even recognize me anymore. Do you want to see him before…?"

Gaara shook his head, looking down at the chains around his wrists. "Have them… sedate him an hour before, as much as they dare. I don't want him to feel a thing at the end. What about Temari?"

"Still in stage two. Uncontrollable shaking for the most part, but they have her strapped down for when the thrashing starts. They expect her to enter the final stage sometime tomorrow." Neji sighed, rubbing at his weary eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"No symptoms to speak of; no fits of shaking, no paranoid berserker rages. Not yet, anyway," Gaara said. "The new seals on Shukaku seem to be holding up as well. So at least when it's my turn to succumb to this madness, it'll be just me the villagers will have to worry about."

"Just you would be dangerous enough," Neji said. "I don't think it's going to be something to worry about, though. You've never even caught a cold; sealed or not, I'd imagine Shukaku still has enough influence to keep you from getting the plague."

"So I am to spend the rest of my life sitting in this basement, while the people that I have sworn to protect lose their minds. While the countries that were our allies sit their armies on our borders to prevent our escape, watching as we destroy ourselves from within," said Gaara. "My brother will be dead before the day is out, and my sister only has a day or two left to her. More villagers succumb to the plague every day. It might be easier to go insane now, rather than sitting and waiting to lose everything."

"Not everything," Neji promised him. He walked over and sat beside Gaara on the bed. Gaara let himself be embraced, let himself be comforted. He needed the comfort, and Neji needed it too. With Gaara voluntarily confined to his house, and his siblings out of commission, it seemed to have fallen to Neji to run everything in this time of crisis.

"I'll still be with you," Neji said softly. "Even if all of Suna falls apart, I'll still be here."

Gaara let out his breath in a sigh. "You can't promise something like that."

"I _will,_" Neji said, quiet but insistent. He kissed Gaara, no more than the briefest meeting of the lips, before he reluctantly rose from the bed. "I have to get back. I'll bring you dinner, but it might be late."

Gaara nodded and watched Neji climb back up the stairs. Neji really was far too pale, and though he clenched them into fists, Neji couldn't hide the way his hands were shaking. Symptoms of the first stage.

Gaara curled up on the uncomfortable mattress he'd been provided, and waited for his world to end.

_BANG!_

An explosive noise ripped Gaara out of his past life vision. In a spilt second, reality changed completely, from darkened basement to grimy greenhouse. Sasuke and Naruto looked similarly startled, adrenalin making their hearts pound. Almost as one, the three of them looked to the source of the explosion; Gaara's backpack.

Something inside the bag moved, shuffling around for a moment before stilling. Gaara just stared at it, dumbfounded for a moment. When it didn't move again, Gaara hesitatingly picked up his backpack, unzipping it to look inside.

The two plastic bottles he carried with him had exploded, spilling their contents of sand all over the inside of the pack. He reached inside, running his fingers through the granular mess.

"What the hell just happened?" Naruto finally managed to ask.

Gaara just shook his head, withdrawing his hand from the bag. The sand rippled at the loss of his touch, and gathered itself, drifting out of the pack in a sandy swarm. It twisted itself into ribbons, twining around one of Gaara's arms, making a sort of purr that sounded almost affectionate.

"What is that?" Sasuke asked, voice hushed. He watched the sand move with wide, unblinking crimson eyes.

"It's… sand…" Naruto reached out, lightly brushing a fingertip over the coils of sand that had looped around Gaara's wrist. The sand reached out questing tendrils to meet the touch, before withdrawing in seeming indifference. "How are you making it move?"

Gaara stared at the cuddling sand helplessly. "I don't know."

"_It must have gotten an infusion of chakra when you connected to your past self,"_ Shukaku mused. _"Looks like the sand missed you."_

"_I don't understand," _Gaara replied to the demon. _"What's chakra?"_

Gaara could practically hear the demon rolling its eyes. _"Kids these days, don't know anything," _Shukaku muttered. _"Chakra is a kind of energy of the spirit. Left to its own devices, it travels through a sort of circulatory system in the body and does a whole lot of nothing. It's when you learn to manipulate your own chakra that things get really interesting. The book your snake teacher gave you could probably tell you more about it."_

Right, the book! Gaara had forgotten all about it, and the recent discovery he had made in it. The sand didn't seem inclined to leave his arm, so Gaara ignored it as he dug through his now sand-free backpack. Sasuke and Naruto watched him with varying degrees of confusion and interest.

"I found something," Gaara said, pulling out the book and flipping pages to the appropriate section. When he'd found the right page, he handed the book to Sasuke. "I think you'll want to see this."

Sasuke took the book from him, looking over the article it was opened to. "Ten Most Notorious Missing-Nin of Konoha," he read. His eyes widened at the mention of his name, and the description of what his previous incarnation had done. "That's not real. That isn't _possible._ Is this your idea of a joke?!"

"You wanted to see the book Orochimaru-sensei gave me; that's it," Gaara said. "It's up to you whether you believe it or not."

"We're reincarnations of people in that book," Naruto said. "Me, and Gaara, and you too, I guess. Kyuubi always did say he thought he remembered you."

"I don't believe it," Sasuke said. He shoved the book back into Gaara's hands. "It's not possible I did those things, even in a past life."

Gaara held up his arm, the sand still coiled like a snake around it. "This isn't possible either. That Naruto and I have demons in our heads isn't possible. The way your eyes change color isn't possible."

"How could I have done those things? Killed all of those people, my own family?" Sasuke shook his head. "Is that what Itachi saw? Is that why he hated me?"

"Well, maybe that isn't it?" Naruto suggested. "Maybe the book got it wrong. You could try to remember it for yourself, see if it's true…"

"I can't use my own gaze on myself."

"There are other ways," Gaara said. "This isn't the first time the sand has moved on its own. I've connected to my past life's memories before."

"Yeah, we'll help you!" Naruto said. "This is awesome, it'll be like we're a club! We could be the Ninja Club, the three of us. And the demons too, of course-"

"And Neji," Gaara said.

"Neji?" Naruto scowled at the name. "Why Neji? He doesn't even like us. And he thinks we're crazy."

"You _are_ crazy," Sasuke said.

"Take that back, jerk!"

Gaara ignored the both of them, flipping past chapters in the book. This memory he'd seen was unlike the other; they'd talked of a plague. Gaara didn't remember reading anything about a plague, but he hadn't quite finished the chapter on Sunagakure. Maybe this was why he had been the "last" Kazekage.

He found the section he was looking for, shortly after where he'd left off the night before. Its heading read "The Fall of Suna."

Suna had been struck by a strange, incurable plague, the article explained, unlike nothing experienced before or since. The plague affected its victims in three stages. The symptoms of stage one were an unhealthy pallor, blurred vision, desperate thirst, and mild tremors of the arms and legs. This stage could last for days. In stage two, the whole body would shake uncontrollably for hours, usually mild but interspersed with brief bouts of severe thrashing. Stage two rarely lasted longer than twenty-four hours. Often hallucinations preluded the onset of the third stage. In stage three, the shaking would cease, but it was believed the hallucinations peaked.

Victims in the third stage were seized by violent rage, incapable of recognizing family or friends, attacking everyone in sight with intent to kill, until they themselves were killed or contained. Attempts at sedation rarely lasted long, the plague fever quickly burning off all narcotics. The third stage of this plague was the shortest, the berserker fury lasting five to ten hours, at which point the stress it put on the body finally caused the heart to give out. No cure was ever found. To those it infected, the plague was always fatal.

Suna had been thrown into chaos by the emergence of this plague. It was not known how it was spread, be it ingested or airborne. Upon discovery of the plague, former allies of Suna sent armies to surround the village, quarantining all within in attempts to prevent the plague's spread. Almost the entire population of the village perished in the plague, either from infection or the rampages of those infected. In the turmoil, it was recorded that the fifth Kazekage and his husband, neither yet showing symptoms of infection, were both murdered.

"This is what I saw," Gaara said, staring at the book. "This is what your eyes showed me. The last hours of Sunagakure."

Sasuke and Naruto both crowded around Gaara to get a good look at the book as well.

"Damn, Sasuke," Naruto said, scowling at the article as he read it. "Can't your eyes show anybody something that isn't depressing?"

Sasuke just smacked Naruto on the back of the head.

"_That's when it happened,"_ Shukaku said, the demon's voice rough with anger. _"That's when we were betrayed." _

From the school building came the bell, signaling the end of second period.

"Damn it." Naruto grabbed the hall pass he'd dropped on the greenhouse floor. "Larise-sensei is gonna be pissed. I'm getting detention for this, I know it."

"No one asked you to be here," Sasuke said, watching as Naruto and Gaara gathered up their stuff to go. Unlike the both of them, Sasuke didn't have anywhere else to be.

"You should come by at lunch," Naruto told Sasuke. "Gaara and I can help you some more with your whole brother-complex."

Sasuke shook his head. "I don't have a complex, and I don't need help. Especially not _yours._ I will borrow that book, though." He held out a hand for it, expectantly.

Gaara ignored his demand, loading the book back into his backpack. The sand around his arm hummed softly, sleepily, pouring itself back into the bag as well to comfortably nest itself among the books and papers, laying still. Gaara brushed it lightly; it didn't move again. Must have run out of chakra or something. He was going to need a new bottle for it.

"If you want to see the book, you can come see us at lunch," Naruto said with a grin. "We're a club now, remember? Gotta stick together."

Sasuke just lowered his hand and looked away, saying nothing. That got Naruto riled, but Gaara just slung on his backpack and stepped out of the greenhouse and into the sunlight. He didn't care if Sasuke came to lunch or not, or even if they never figured out what Itachi had been thinking prior to killing himself. Gaara had his own problems to worry about. Like how he was going to convince Neji to hear him out, much less join this little "club" of theirs.

_.x.x.x._

He considered the problem all through Chemistry, and by the time the lunch bell rang, he was no closer to an answer. Neither did Shukaku have any suggestions; the demon was uncharacteristically quiet today. Gaara wondered if the newly unearthed memories were bothering it still. They knew now _when_ they had been betrayed, but not _who _effected that betrayal, how, or why.

Gaara left the classroom slowly, the halls seeming even more crowded than usual. He caught a few words of conversation as he struggled though the congestion.

"Did you hear?" he heard one girl say excitedly to her friend as he passed by. "Sasuke's outside! Sasuke's back!"

"I know!" her friend gushed in reply. "Ino said she saw him out the window. If we hurry, maybe we can see him!"

As Gaara moved on, he heard variants of that same gossip from at least a dozen groups of giggling girls. Seemed like it had been a bad idea to invite Sasuke to come back and joint hem for lunch. The boy was going to get mobbed.

But that was hardly Gaara's problem. He pushed his way through the crowded halls, trying not to get caught in the slow pace of traffic, and at the same time, search out the one he was looking for amid the multitude of faces. It was hard to pick out any one person from the crowd.

"_By the lockers on the right," _Shukaku broke in helpfully.

Pushing past a particularly large group of girls clogging most of the hall, Gaara looked to where the demon had indicated. Neji was at his locker, exchanging the textbooks from his morning classes for the ones he would need after lunch. Making slow progress through the overcrowded passageway, Gaara made it to Neji's side.

"Can I talk to you?" Gaara asked him.

Neji looked up, frowning at Gaara. "You and your annoying friend sure are persistent."

"Please," Gaara said. "It's important."

Neji's icy eyes scrutinized him for a long moment, before zipping his backpack closed. "Alright. You can have five minutes."

The two of them made their way out of the crush of students, finally turning down a lesser-used hallway where they could walk more freely. Gaara glanced through the windows of the classrooms as they passed, finally choosing an empty one, opening the door and letting himself in. Neji followed along, not looking particularly amused.

It was a small classroom without windows, and relatively poor lighting. There were numerous papers tacked to the walls, portraying geometric diagrams and mathematical formulas.

"What is this about?" Neji asked.

"I want to show you something." Gaara dug through his backpack, pulling out his book of the hidden villages. "I know you think I'm crazy, and I can't fault you for that. Things like past lives and demons and all that sound pretty unbelievable. But there are things you don't know, that you don't understand." He paged through the book, through the chapter on Sunagakure, to the portrait of the fifth Kazekage and his husband. He held the book out to Neji. "I just need you to believe me."

Neji took the book, pale eyes staring at the illustration. He flipped a few pages, reading history chronicled there, of a life he had supposedly led once. Gaara watched him, all but holding his breath. Neji would have to believe him now.

Neji closed the book with a snap, frowning at Gaara. "You're staring to take this joke a little far, don't you think? This journal of yours is interesting, but it's hardly proof of anything, much less that you or I had any life prior to the current one."

"This isn't a joke!" Gaara protested. This was so frustrating! Why couldn't Neji just believe him? What other proof did he need?

"Please," Neji said, holding the book out for Gaara to take. "You really ought to be sharing these issues you have with a psychiatrist. I'm really not qualified to-"

Neji's words trailed off in mid-sentence, his stunned gaze focused on something just behind Gaara's left shoulder. Gaara turned his head to look.

A swarm of sand hovered in air, in blatant disregard for all accepted laws of reality. As the watched, it dipped and twisted, letting out a little purr as it wrapped itself affectionately around Neji's arm. He stared at it wonderingly. His fingers brushed along the coil of sand almost of their own volition; the sand let out a pleased hum at the touch.

"_I think it likes him," _Shukaku said with some amusement.

"What is this?" Neji asked, awe replacing any hint of condescension in his tone.

"It's sand," Gaara said. "Kind of… like a pet. Shukaku says it's my chakra that makes it move, but it seems to have a will of its own."

"Shukaku?" Neji questioned, glancing up from the sand to Gaara in askance.

"Demon in my head," Gaara explained.

"Ah." Neji let his hand brush over the sand again, like he was petting an animal. "I'm still not sure I believe in what you were talking about. But I have to admit, you have very compelling evidence."

"There's more," Gaara said. "But I'd need more than five minutes. If you'd be willing to join my friends and I for lunch, I could present my case in full."

"Then by all means," Neji said. "Though, permit me a few questions first. Why show all of this to me? What is it… that you want from me?"

"I just want you to believe me." That was a lie, Gaara realized even as he said it. He just wanted Neji to be with him. He wanted what he'd had before, in another lifetime. He wanted Neji to love him again.


	9. Scientific Method

Gaara didn't think he'd ever been the center of so much attention in his life. Granted, the attention wasn't really directed at him. The mob of adoring females that crowded around the front lawn of the school were here to see Sasuke; that Gaara was sitting next to him was purely incidental. Still, Gaara found himself very uncomfortable with their encroachment on his personal space. The sand was hissing inside his backpack, scratching against the nylon; Gaara was just glad no one seemed to hear it but him.

"_Stay in there," _Gaara silently pleaded with the sand. _"I don't want them all to see you."_

Shukaku, on the other hand, seemed pleased by the sand's antics. _"Let it out. It's been so long since the sand and I had a chance to play. A shame we don't have enough for a proper sand coffin, but I bet we could still make a decent mess with what we've got. Come on, it'll be fun."_

Gaara was having a hard time imagining the cuddly little mass of sand being capable of a violence that would appease the demon's whims. Then again, it wasn't acting very friendly at the moment. Apparently the sand was territorial. And the way it was hissing now, and struggling in the confines of his backpack, made him wonder if maybe the sand could be a little _dangerous._

Neji, Gaara, Sasuke and Naruto were sitting on a stone bench under the shade of one of the large trees on the campus. Surrounding them was a mob of almost two dozen of the school's female students, all pressing in to try and get a good look at Sasuke, their returned idol. There was a cacophony of noise, as each girl tried to talk over the ones around her. Though it was hard to make out the words, it wasn't difficult to discern what they wanted to know; why Sasuke had left, where he had been, and why he'd come back. That Sasuke seemed to have no interest in answering those questions, or of even acknowledging the girls' existence, did not faze their enthusiasm.

Naruto just shook his head, ripping off a violent bite of his sandwich. "I still don't know what they see in him," the blonde mumbled around his food.

The fact that Sasuke shot a venomous scowl at anyone that got too close didn't seem to deter his fans.

With some trepidation, Gaara glanced at Neji. He'd brought Neji out here so they'd be able to talk more, and hopefully be able to convince him of the truth to the outrageous-sounding claims of dreams, demons and past lives. But with all these hovering girls, there'd be no chance of discussing those things now. Neji didn't look too pleased with the current turn of events, either. Gaara would be lucky if Neji ever talked to him again after this.

"I'm sorry about this," Gaara mumbled. "I thought we'd have a chance to talk out here. I didn't know it would be like this."

"There's got to be somewhere the fan girls can't follow us," Naruto said. "Boy's bathroom?"

"I'm not eating my lunch in the _bathroom_," said Sasuke. Of the four of them, Sasuke looked the most uncomfortable with this turn of events. After all, it was his appearance after so long away that was galvanizing the mob.

"Well, there's no point to remaining out here," Neji said. He returned his uneaten lunch to his bag, and stood up. Gaara's heart sank, thinking Neji would abandon them now, and it was his fault. But Neji added, "I know someplace they won't bother us, if you're interested."

The other three stood immediately, hastily grabbing their bags and lunches, and following Neji into the school building. It was slow progress, as the adoring fans mobbed them and followed, calling out and begging for Sasuke's attention.

"Damn, was it always like this for you, Sasuke?" Naruto asked, as they all but ran down the hallway, trying in vain to lose the groupies. "No wonder you left. We ought to get you some pepper spray or something."

The odd parade tromped up the stairs to the second floor. They were faster than their pursuers, but still only managed to put a short distance between them. They passed by computer labs and Language Arts classrooms. The end of the hallway was a dead end, but Neji opened the last door, and the four of them hurried inside.

A man was sitting at the teacher's desk eating his lunch and looking over papers, and he looked up in surprise as the four of them ran in. Though the teacher's clothes were clean, they had a rumpled sort of appearance, and his hair was dirt brown and a little untidy. Gaara got the feeling that he probably always looked that way.

"Do you mind if we borrow your classroom for the duration of lunch, Tashimura-sensei?" Neji asked, not even out of breath from the short run.

"Of course not, Neji, you know I'd never mind," Tashimura-sensei said with a smile.

Neji nodded, and headed for the back of the classroom. There was another door there, the window looking into a smaller room, crammed with clunky computers and reference materials.

Behind them, the classroom door was thrown open and the room was filled with the babble of excited girls, as they all tried to shove through the doorway at once.

"There's Sasuke!" squealed one of the girls that made it through first. "Hey, Sasuke! We just want to talk to you!"

Tashimura-sensei stood, clearly grasping the situation immediately. His authoritative tone carried over the cacophony of the girls, and halted them in their tracks. "I'm sorry ladies, but my classroom is only for students in pursuit of knowledge, not those in pursuit of a hot piece of ass. I'm afraid you will have to spend to spend your lunch period elsewhere."

There was a chorus of groans and grumbling, but reluctantly the girls left. Satisfied with his work, Tashimura-sensei sat back down at his desk, returning to his lunch and his grading. The classroom was once more comfortably quiet.

"Thank you, sensei," Neji said.

Tashimura-sensei glanced up at him, his smile brilliant. His gaze seemed affectionate. "Not at all; it was my pleasure."

Neji let them into the smaller room, pulling a chair away from in front of the computer tables and sitting down. With not so obvious relief, Sasuke also chose a chair and sat down. Naruto moved to look at the display of photos tacked up on one wall, portraying images of the school and its students. Gaara was last into the little room, closing the door behind him and casting a glance out its window at the teacher at his desk.

"Who is that guy?" Gaara asked.

"My Advanced Literature teacher," Neji said, not looking up from his backpack as he pulled his lunch out once more. "He also oversees the school newspaper, which is what this room is for."

Gaara frowned, then pulled down the shade to cover the window. He couldn't say what it was that bothered him about Tashimura-sensei. Possibly the fact that the teacher seemed just a touch too fond of Neji, but that might just be Gaara's imagination. Whatever it was, Gaara wished that Neji had had a different classroom for the four of them to hide out in.

"Now then," Neji said. "I believe I was promised explanations and evidence, not necessarily in that order."

"Gaara wants you to join our new club," Naruto said. He chose a chair of his own and plopped down into it, rummaging the little plastic baggie with the rest of his sandwich in it out of his backpack.

"Your club?" Neji questioned.

"The Ninja Club," said Naruto. "Based off Gaara's book. Gaara did show you the book, didn't he?"

"He did show me a book," Neji conceded. "Though I have yet to be certain of the authenticity of its history. Gaara's trick with the sand was somewhat more persuasive."

"You saw Gaara's sand, and you're still not convinced?" Sasuke asked.

"I'm not making up my mind one way or the other until I've seen all the evidence," Neji said. "So what else is there?"

"Guess that means you're up, Sasuke," Naruto said. "Show him that eye-changing trick you do."

Sasuke cast an irritated look at Naruto. "I don't see why the burden of convincing him suddenly falls to me. None of this is my problem."

"He's already seen the sand, so you're the only one with something to demonstrate. Kyuubi's not exactly something I can show off," Naruto said. "And he did save you from your mob of stalkers."

"If you hadn't insisted I show up at lunch, I wouldn't have been mobbed at all," Sasuke said.

"If you don't want to be here, you're welcome to leave," Neji said reasonably. "Though if I were you, I'd consider it carefully before leaving here before lunch is over. Your fans are probably outside the classroom at this very moment, waiting to see if you'll emerge."

Sasuke gave him a glare for his nonchalant logic. But Neji was right; there could easily be a repeat of the earlier swarming should he venture out of the classroom while people were still traversing the halls.

"Come on," Naruto coaxed. "If you can't convince him, nothing will."

"I don't think he wants to be convinced," Sasuke muttered.

"There's only one way to find out, isn't there?" said Neji.

"Fine," Sasuke ground out. "But for the record, none of this was my idea." He scooted his chair over, so he could look Neji in the eye. "You want the full experience? Don't blink."

From where he stood, Gaara couldn't see Sasuke's eyes change to that hypnotizing crimson, but he knew the moment they did. Neji got a strange expression on his face, as though mesmerized, lost in his own mind. Or, as Gaara expected, in his own memories. Gaara wondered if he had looked the same when Sasuke had put him in that trance.

Though Gaara wanted desperately for Neji to believe him, to believe that Gaara wasn't crazy, he did have some reservations about letting Sasuke use this power of his on Neji. As Naruto had said, it seemed the memories of the past that Sasuke's eyes revealed were not usually pleasant ones. The last thing Gaara wanted was for the first memories Neji recovered of his prior life to be ones of pain and misery.

But they really didn't have much better evidence than this. As Naruto had said, if this didn't convince Neji that their shared past life wasn't the product of mentally diseased delusions, then there was no hope of anything changing his mind.

In a moment it was over, Neji coming back to himself with a look of stunned disbelief. The expression was quickly masked, but Neji could not completely hide that whatever he had seen had shaken him badly.

"So do you believe us now?" Naruto asked eagerly. "What'd you see?"

"I… believe you," Neji said slowly. "As to what I saw…" He shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"No way!" Naruto protested. "That's not fair; you gotta tell us!"

"I believe the three of you aren't making this stuff up," Neji said. "Let's just leave it at that, shall we?"

"Are you all right, Neji?" Gaara asked softly.

Neji met his gaze briefly, then looked away. "Let's just leave it at that."

The bell rang, and lunch was over.

_.x.x.x._

The last three periods of the day passed with a despairing slowness. Gaara couldn't even muster the will to doodle in his notebook to pass the time. He just couldn't stop thinking about the way Neji had looked when he'd come out of his brush with his past life, how he hadn't wanted to talk about what he'd seen. Gaara wondered if Neji had seen the same thing he had, about Suna in the grip of incurable plague, being able to do nothing as family and loved ones died terrible deaths.

Maybe including Neji into their Ninja Club really had been a bad idea.

"_On the bright side," _Shukaku said, _"he doesn't think you're crazy anymore."_

"_Not sure it'll be worth it, if this drives _him_ crazy," _Gaara said. _"What if whatever he saw ends up haunting him, like it did with Itachi, until Neji finally kills himself?"_

"_Then you'll have to change the name from Ninja Club to Suicide Club," _Shukaku said cheerfully.

"_That's not funny, Shukaku!"_

"_Relax already," _the demon said easily. _"You mortals worry too much. I don't think Neji is going to kill himself over this; he's stronger than that. But since I already know my saying that isn't going to stop your stressing, you should talk to him about it. He can tell you you're full of crap just as easily as I could, and maybe then you'll really believe it."_

"_Thanks. That helps a lot,"_ Gaara said, even though it didn't help at all.

The classes dragged on, and Gaara passed from one to the next without giving much acknowledgement to the change of surroundings. One class was the same as any other to him. He tried to turn his thoughts to other subjects, but they kept returning to the events at lunch.

After the bell had rung and the coast was clear, Sasuke had left without so much as a farewell. Gaara doubted very much that he would be coming back again, since Gaara and Naruto had not been much help to Sasuke and his cause. Neji had said a quiet goodbye, before making his own departure.

Naruto had watched the both of them leave with a perplexed frown. "We got what we wanted, right? He believes us now. So why do I get the feeling that didn't go as well as it could have?"

Because it hadn't gone well, Gaara reflected on it now, though he was surprised Naruto had been perceptive enough to notice it. He and Naruto hadn't said much to each other after that, the two of them heading their separate directions to their classes.

When the final bell rang to end the school day, Gaara was for once one of the first students out of their chairs. Gaara hoped he could catch Neji before he went home, and talk to him without Naruto or Sasuke there.

Gaara made it out of the school in record time. Only a few groups of students wandered across the lawn, heading toward parked cars or school buses. Gaara paused on the steps, giving him a good vantage of the campus. He picked Neji out of the crowds almost immediately. But Neji wasn't alone.

The girl Neji was talking with was petite, with short dark hair. She was wearing her jacket, though it was hardly cold enough to warrant it. Unlike the other girl students, who wore their uniform skirts as short as they were allowed, hers was long enough that the hem brushed the tops of her perfectly clean white shoes.

"_Looks like you missed your chance,"_ Shukaku said. _"Loverboy's got himself a girlfriend. You know, if you wanted me to, I'd be more than happy to break every bone in her body."_

A girlfriend? Neji hadn't said anything about currently dating someone. _"Maybe they're just friends?"_

"_Maybe. Or maybe the reason he got so weird over what he'd seen in his vision is that he's madly in love with little Miss Modest over there, and doesn't want to admit that you've got first dibs on him," _the demon said.

"_I don't have first dibs on anybody." _Unfortunately.

"_Do too. We had him first."_

"_That was a whole other lifetime. In this life, we've only known him for about three days," _Gaara pointed out.

"_This life, last life- same difference. Once ours, always ours. Go over there and stake your claim already. Or I will, by cracking that girl's pretty little head open like an egg," _Shukaku said.

Despite the demon's conviction that Neji somehow belonged to them, Gaara knew he hadn't any right to make any claim on him. If Neji had a girlfriend, there wasn't anything Gaara could do about it. All the same, he'd come out here to talk to Neji, and he fully intended to.

Neji and the girl both looked over as Gaara walked up to them. The girl had a sweet face and a shy smile, but it was her eyes that were really her best feature. They were perhaps a slightly warmer hue than Neji's icy color, but that pale opalescence was unmistakable. They had the same eyes.

"You're… Neji's sister?" Gaara hazarded a guess.

A faint blushed tinged the girl's cheeks when he spoke to her. "His cousin, actually. I'm Hinata Hyuuga."

A potent relief soothed the knot of worry Gaara hadn't even realized he'd had. Hinata was Neji's cousin, not his girlfriend.

"_And so long as his family doesn't condone incest, you're in the clear,"_ Shukaku said. _"Then again, just because she's not his girlfriend, doesn't mean he doesn't have one."_

"_You can go ahead and shut up any time now,"_ Gaara informed the demon.

"You must be Gaara," Hinata said. "Neji's mentioned you."

"_Well that's a good start,"_ Shukaku mused.

"Unless he's been telling her how crazy I am, and that he can't stand to be around me…"

"_And you call _me_ cynical."_

Hinata shifted a little uncomfortably when neither Gaara nor Neji said anything more. She fidgeted, and glanced at the little wristwatch she wore. "Um, well, I should probably be going. Hanabi will worry if I'm not there to pick her up soon. Um… nice meeting you, Gaara. Bye, Neji." She gave a little wave, then hurried off down the sidewalk.

Neji watched his cousin go, then said, "I should be going, too."

The fact that Neji didn't seem comfortable in his presence was not lost on Gaara. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened at lunch," Gaara said.

"There's nothing to talk about," Neji said. "And I really should be going. I'm expected home, and I have homework to do."

"We could go someplace later," Gaara offered. "Have dinner someplace, maybe?"

Neji blinked, silent a moment, as though adjusting to the fact that Gaara had just asked him out. "Gaara… whatever happened… whatever we were to each other in some past life, it's over. We're different people now. I don't think you should be expecting things to be like they were."

"I know that. I'm not expecting a repeat of the past," Gaara said. "I just want to talk to you some more."

Neji eyed him skeptically for a moment, before relenting. "Alright. You can come by around six, and we'll go someplace for dinner." He dug a piece of paper out of his backpack, writing out his address on it, and handing it to Gaara.

Gaara took the paper quickly, hardly daring to believe that Neji had actually agreed. Neji just looked at him a moment longer, as though debating if something more needed to be said.

"I'll see you later, then," Neji finally said. After one last long, unreadable look, Neji turned and walked away.

Gaara just stood there, clutching the scrap of paper as he watched Neji go. "Bye…"

"Gaara?" Temari's voice reminded him of his surroundings. "Are you ready to go?"

Gaara only glanced behind him at his siblings, before beginning the walk home, knowing they would be right behind. Unlike the usual routine, however, Temari quickened her pace so she could walk beside him. Reluctantly, Kankuro followed suite.

"So, it seems you have been making friends after all," Temari commented as they walked.

Gaara just shrugged, a gesture that could be taken to mean anything, and kept walking.

"Who was the boy you were just talking to?" Temari pressed.

"Neji," Gaara said simply. After a moment, he added, "He and I were going to go to dinner tonight."

"Oh?" A note of worry crept into Temari's tone. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Gaara. Maybe you shouldn't. Actually, I'm certain you shouldn't."

Gaara halted on the sidewalk, leveling a flat glare at his sister. "Why?"

Temari paled at being faced with his anger, but continued bravely. "You've only been on this new medication for a little while, and we don't know yet if it works better than any of the others. If we let you go, and there's another incident… Gaara, we just moved here. We've barely settled in, and I for one don't want to move again so soon."

"You're not saying I shouldn't go," Gaara said. "You're saying I _can't_ go. Because you think I'll hurt somebody."

"Yes," Temari admitted softly. "That's what I'm saying."

Gaara turned away from her, and started walking again without another word.

His siblings hurried to catch up. "But I do think it's nice that you've made friends," Temari hastened to say, hoping to alleviate his anger. "If we talk to your therapist this weekend, maybe you can go out with Neji sometime next week."

He didn't reply, only kept walking with long strides, until Temari and Kankuro were forced once more to trail behind him. A heavy silence hung over them all the way home, and upon reaching their house, Gaara went upstairs and closed himself up in his room without a word.

"_The girl's got a point,"_ Shukaku pointed out once Gaara was alone. _"You've hurt so many people, it's understandable that they don't trust you not to, now."_

"You," Gaara corrected out loud. "_You_ hurt all those people, not me. What's the good in not being crazy if everyone else still thinks I am?"

"_Well, you've gotten away with hurting all those people because they thought you were crazy,"_ Shukaku said. _"It'd be a shame to give up such a nice get-out-of-jail-free card like that."_

"I don't need it," Gaara said. "I'm not going to hurt anyone else."

"_Oh, that's what you think," _said the demon. _"I may not be a product of schizophrenic delusion, but you won't be any better at resisting me now than you ever were. And now that we have the sand, we can kill anyone, at any time, and no one would even know it was you. Except you, of course."_

The sand made a soft sound from inside Gaara's backpack. He unzipped the bag, and the sand lifted a little, as if peeking out. Gaara ran his fingers over the granular mass, and it hummed appreciatively. It seemed so little, too innocent to cause the sort of violence Shukaku was suggesting.

"_Just wait,"_ Shukaku said with satisfaction. _"It gets a lot bigger."_

_.x.x.x._

Gaara remained in his room until after six, when Temari called him down for dinner. She had to call three times before he finally snapped that he wasn't coming to dinner.

"Are you sure?" Temari asked through the door. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Go away," Gaara explained.

"…alright," she said after a moment's hesitation. "I'll leave some in the fridge, you can heat it up again if you get hungry later."

Gaara waited until he heard her going back down the stairs, before pulling out the box he kept under the bed.

On and off over the years, depending on what Gaara's therapist at the time said, he'd received a small allowance once a week. He'd never spent any of it; he'd never had much inclination to buy things, not that anyone would have taken him shopping if he'd had. And so the money had just accumulated in the shoebox he'd thrown it into. Counting out a handful of the cash now, he was sure he had enough to take Neji to dinner someplace pretty nice.

"_Well this is new,"_ Shukaku said, as Gaara opened his bedroom window and contemplated the best way down. _"So you're not going to be a good little boy, and stay home like your sister told you to?"_

"_I can't just not show up. I need to talk to him in person,"_ Gaara said. _"And I'm not waiting until next week for this."_ He wasn't sure how to go about getting down from his second floor bedroom. There was an accessible drainpipe, but he wasn't sure he would trust his ability to climb down it.

"_Bring the sand with you,"_ Shukaku suggested. _"It can help keep you from falling."_

Gaara wasn't sure how the sand would be able to help, but he glanced over to his backpack. The sand perked up a bit, flowing over to him eagerly the moment he motioned for it. Quickly, before he could talk himself out of it, Gaara reached for the drainpipe and started down. The sand wreathed around him, pressing up against his back to keep him from falling. Gaara wasn't sure such a small amount of sand would have helped should he really lose his grip and topple, but luckily it didn't come to that. The moment his feet safely touched the ground, he was off and running down the street.

Having not been out on his own, Gaara didn't know his way around the town that well. And it was starting to get dark out. Still, after only a few detours, he found the address matching the one Neji had given him.

He knocked hesitantly on the door, not sure he was really welcome. By this point, he was over an hour late. There was a minute or so of silence after his knock, before Neji finally opened the door.

"Gaara," Neji greeted with mild surprise. "I was starting to think you weren't coming."

"You sound as though you'd hoped I wouldn't…" Gaara ventured. "I thought we were going to dinner?"

"I think perhaps it would be better if we didn't," Neji said slowly. "I was thinking… it might be better if we didn't spend any more time together, at all."

Gaara just stared at him. "Why?" he finally managed to ask. "I know Sasuke's eye trick doesn't lend itself to revealing the nicest memories, but that's no reason to-"

Neji stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind him, looking up to scrutinize the sliver of the moon. "Do you want to know what I saw, earlier today? It was the same thing I used to dream about, when I was younger. I'd almost succeeded in forgetting, in convincing myself it meant nothing." He turned to Gaara, his pale eyes gleaming in the dim light. "In my vision, I killed you. Stabbed you through the heart, and watched as you died. And with your very last breath… you said that you loved me."


	10. Data Entry

"_I don't believe it," _Shukaku whispered. For once, the demon lost all his anger, all his attitude. All that was left was bewilderment. _"Neji was the one that betrayed us?"_

"_It couldn't have been betrayal," _Gaara insisted. _"He wouldn't have. I've seen what it was like in our past. I may not have seen much, but I know he loved me. He wouldn't have betrayed us."_

Gaara had said nothing when Neji confessed to remember having murdered him, in the time before. Neji looked away from him then, focusing his attentions instead on the wisps of gray clouds that drifted slowly across the sky, sometimes cloaking, then revealing the sliver of moon. It was though he was waiting for Gaara to process this revelation and condemn him.

But despite what Neji had seen in his vision, Gaara didn't believe it was the whole story. It may not have been the betrayal Shukaku and Neji seemed to think it was. Gaara couldn't make himself believe that it was. _"Maybe he had no choice. In my vision, there was a plague. The villagers were so scared of me, of what I'd do if I lost my mind like the others."_

"_You would have destroyed everything,"_ Shukaku said with satisfaction. _"There'd have been nothing left of the desert but one giant, glass-bottomed crater."_

"_That's it, then," _Gaara said. _"If I was infected, he'd have to kill me. He'd have no choice. I wonder, though, who killed Neji? The book said we were both murdered."_

"_The book also said neither one of you had been infected by the plague, so your mercy killing theory doesn't hold much water," _Shukaku said.

"_The book is wrong, then. In my vision, Neji was already showing symptoms-" _Gaara paused, as the true weight of that thought sunk in. _"Neji was showing symptoms of the first stage. He didn't kill me because I lost my mind; he killed me because _he_ lost _his_ mind!"_

"It wasn't your fault," Gaara said softly, drawing Neji's attention back to him. "I had a vision of the past, too. In my memory, there was a plague in the village. In the third stage, those infected were violent, attacking everyone they saw, incapable of recognizing friends, family, or loved ones. They just killed, until they died."

"And you think I had this plague?" Neji asked quietly. "You think that's why I killed you; because I was sick, and couldn't stop myself?"

"Pretty certain," Gaara said. "Was there anything else you saw in your vision?"

Neji shook his head slowly. "There was always so much blood. I'd be covered in blood, and even though it was so warm, I'd feel so cold. I used to dream about it so often when I was a child. That was bad enough, but there were… other dreams, other visions. Of the lifetimes after that one, I suppose they were. Some part of myself would know you and look for you, but you were never there. And I thought it was my fault, that you'd left me because of what I'd done. Finally, I stopped looking for you."

"_This must not be his first reincarnated lifetime," _Shukaku said. _"He's been born into other lifetimes, who knows how many. Must have waited for you for centuries, in every life he'd been born into, even if he didn't consciously know it was you he waited for. You see? I told you he was ours."_

"_But why wasn't I there?" _Gaara wondered. _"Why wasn't I reincarnated with him? How could we have made him wait so long?"_

"_That was my fault, probably," _Shukaku mused. _"There's a lot of problem with reincarnating demons, I think. Because you're bound to me, it probably takes us longer to reincarnate." _

In Gaara's silence, Neji continued. "The dreams bothered me so much, that I'd make myself forget them immediately upon waking. And eventually, the dreams stopped, and I hadn't thought of them since. Until I saw you in the hall, a few days ago. I didn't recognize you at first, but when I did, I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to remember. I couldn't acknowledge your dreams, because it would mean facing my own. And now the memories have been unearthed again, and here you are telling me that all this time, they were never anything to be afraid of. That it wasn't even my _fault._"

Gaara looked at him for a long moment, before offering, "Would it make you feel better to apologize?"

Neji looked away. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm sorry for…"

"Killing me?"

Neji nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry too. For not being there in your other lives. I didn't mean to abandon you." Gaara said. After a moment of silence, he added, "Since we've cleared that up now, shall we go to dinner?"

Neji smiled a little, but shook his head. "I think it may be a little late to go to a restaurant now."

"Then we'll go for a walk, and get something on the way. I saw an all-night convenience store on the way here," Gaara said.

"I suppose it would be better than talking out on the porch all night," Neji mused. He looked up at the house, probably considering telling someone inside his plans to leave, then seemed to decide against it. "Alright. A walk sounds nice."

It was nice. Despite the onset of autumn, the night was not too cold. There weren't many people out either, and so the walk was comfortably quiet. Neither boy was too inclined to talk, but the silence was comforting, the two of them walking along without too much care for the destination.

They did end up stopping by the convenience store, a brightly lit beacon amid the many darkened and closed shops. Neji waited outside, while Gaara went in to buy snacks.

The girl behind the counter looked up from her handheld video game when he walked in. She was a big-boned girl, with a curvaceous figure, which the overlarge t-shirt she was wearing did little to disguise. Her hair was long, dark brown and curly, tied back in a severe ponytail, and doing its best to escape from said confinement. The nametag pinned to her shirt read, "Cola." When Gaara didn't ask a question, or say anything for that matter, Cola turned her attention from her customer back to the game in her hands.

Not knowing what to get really, Gaara wandered the well-lit aisles, before finally deciding on a large bag of potato chips and a couple bottles of soda. When he brought these to the counter, Cola set down her game.

"Find everything alright?" she asked, as she began ringing up his purchases.

Gaara paused in mid-nod; he'd really only guessed at what he ought to get. "Do you have something appropriate for a date?" he asked.

"Condoms," she suggested without even a pause. She pointed to a rack near to the counter. On it were displayed several packages of condoms, in every size, color, and yes, even flavor possible.

"_I like the way she thinks,"_ Shukaku said. There was humor in his voice, though whether it was for her blunt answer or Gaara's mortification, it was hard to tell. _"Get a package; you may be needing them."_

"_I will not!" _Gaara protested.

Shukaku paused, then said easily, _"You're probably right. Neji's not likely to put out on the first date. But so long as you're here, get a pack anyway. There's always a chance you'll need some on the _second_ date." _

Knowing that the demon wasn't going to let this drop until he bought some, especially since it caused Gaara embarrassment, Gaara quickly grabbed a small package at random from the display, tossing it onto the counter to add to his purchase. Cola quirked a smile as she rang it up, and told him his total.

He paid for the items, and let her put them in a bag, all but the condoms, which he slipped into his pocket to hide them. There was no way he was even going to let Neji know he had them. He'd only bought them to shut the demon up, after all. He grabbed the plastic bag, and hurried out of the store.

Back out in the comforting darkness, he felt like he could relax. He and Neji picked up their walking again. They ended up at a park, deserted now. They sat down on the swings at the playground, Gaara handing Neji one of the sodas, before opening the bag of chips.

Neji took a handful of chips, munching on them one by one as he looked over the park. His gaze lingered a little longer on the sandbox. "Tell me about the dreams you've had," Neji said quietly. "Were they anything like mine?"

"You'll really believe me this time?" Gaara asked.

"I think we're a little past denying these things as possible," Neji said.

Gaara nodded, drinking some of his soda before he answered. "Most of my life, I wasn't dreaming about actually events. I think my dreams were more symbolic than anything. There was a sandstorm, and a desert field littered with dead bodies. And then you would be there, with me, but out of my reach. Then I'd wake up. Since coming to this school, the dream's started changing. And it's only been recently that I've seen real memories of my past life."

"From Sasuke's eyes?" Neji asked.

"One of them was," Gaara admitted. "Once was from trying a meditation technique I read in a book. It was… a nice memory. You were there. I think we may have had a nice life together." He stopped talking then, wondering if he'd perhaps said too much. Neji had been very specific about reminding him that he shouldn't expect this life to be a repeat of the one they'd shared. He might not want to be reminded of what they'd once been to each other. That they'd been in love.

But Neji didn't seem to take offense at the mention. "I haven't seen any of the pleasant memories. I think I should like to, sometime. Perhaps this meditation technique would work for me, as well."

"I could bring the book tomorrow," Gaara offered. "You can try it."

"Thank you, I'd like that," Neji said. The comfortable silence resettled for several minutes, before Neji spoke again, reluctantly. "I should be getting back. They'll wonder where I am."

Gaara nodded slowly, remembering that he might be missed as well. Temari was going to be frantic if she found out he'd left, after she told him he couldn't. She'd probably think he was out maiming someone.

"_It's not too bad an idea,"_ Shukaku said. _"We haven't maimed anybody in a good long while." _

"_You really need a new hobby,"_ Gaara told the demon. _"Isn't there anything you can think to do that doesn't involve hurting people?"_

"_Well, you and Neji could go get comfortable under one of those trees, and try out a couple of those condoms you bought," _Shukaku said. _"I think that could keep me entertained for a while." _

Great. Not only was the demon a homicidal terror, it was a pervert, too. _"You wish."_

"_You wish, too," _said the demon. _"Or you will, at any rate. Just wait until you start remembering a few of the steamier bits from your past life. Bet you anything, you won't be able to keep your hands off him then." _

Gaara felt his face heat, and he hoped he wasn't blushing. Luckily, it was dark enough now, even with the orangey glow from the streetlights, that Neji probably wouldn't see it even if he were. That Neji and Gaara's past selves had had sex was only a logical conclusion. Just that with everything else Gaara'd had to consider over the past couple of days, it was a fact that he'd not given much thought to.

"_I'm guessing you'll be giving it a lot of thought now though, won't you?"_ Shukaku said evilly. _"You must be dying to know what it was like."_

Gaara stood up quickly and gathered his things, as though he could somehow run away from the direction his thoughts were taking him. Neji stood too, and the two left the park. They walked amiably side by side, talking about little things now and again, before lapsing back into their comfortable silence. Gaara tried to turn his thoughts to other things, as he told Neji of some of the things he'd read in the book Orochimaru-sensei had given him, but every time they felt back into their quiet, Shukaku's words plagued at him.

Maybe he did wonder, Gaara finally admitted to himself, just a little bit. No one could fault him for that. In their past lives, he and Neji had shared something strong enough that its echoes could still be felt, long after the first lifetime had ended. It was only natural that he wonder what it was like.

"_Not to mention, Neji is pretty damned hot,"_ Shukaku said. _"Mmm, it really has been too long…"_

"_That's enough out of you,"_ Gaara informed the demon, as he and Neji finally reached Neji's house again. _"I don't want to hear any more about it."_

Neji lifted the doormat for the spare key. "Thanks for coming by, Gaara. It was nice having a chance to talk to you. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"_This,"_ Shukaku informed him, _"is the part where you kiss him."_

But Gaara didn't move, offering an awkward smile in return. "See you tomorrow," he murmured.

Neji unlocked his front door, and went inside. When the door closed behind him, Gaara stared at it for a long moment before he turned to leave. He was very aware of the packet of condoms all but burning a hole in his pocket.

_.x.x.x._

Gaara didn't know what time it was when he finally neared his house. Late, definitely. His siblings were probably asleep by now. He hoped they were. He was just wondering about how hard it would be to climb back up the drainpipe, when he noticed the front porch light was on. Not only that, but someone was on the porch, waiting for him.

Gaara eyed his brother warily as he approached the house. Kankuro watched him in return, his expression a mask, betraying nothing, saying nothing.

"I suppose Temari's angry," Gaara said as he stepped onto the porch.

"Temari doesn't know," Kankuro said. "She went to bed about an hour ago." His gaze made a quick sweep over Gaara's attire. "No bloodstains; it couldn't have been too bad."

"I didn't hurt anyone," Gaara said.

"Good," Kankuro said. He stood there a moment more, then turned away, opening the front door and going inside.

Gaara followed him inside, taking a step toward the stairs to go up to his room, then thought better of it. He followed Kankuro into the kitchen, where his brother was digging through the cabinets for a late night snack.

"Why did you wait for me?" Gaara asked from the kitchen doorway.

Kankuro paused in the act of pulling a box of cereal out of the cupboard. "To see if you'd even come home," he said. "I wasn't sure you would. Don't think I'd blame you if you didn't."

"How'd you even know I was gone?"

"Temari and I take turns checking in on you each night, after you're asleep. You've never known, because you never wake up. Anyway, tonight was my night." He set the cereal box down on the counter. "You've been different this past week. I still can't figure out what's happened to change you, but you're not as… scary as you used to be. Maybe it's just the new medication."

Gaara thought about the pills he flushed down the toilet every morning. "It's not the medication."

"Whatever it is, I think it's good for you," Kankuro said. He looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Gaara, I know I haven't been the greatest brother…"

"Not since I tried to set you on fire, anyway."

Kankuro winced at the reminder. "Right, well. I just wanted to say, if you ever need to, you can talk to me."

Gaara stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. Kankuro had hardly ever spoken to Gaara, usually standing in the background and letting Temari act as the parent. Gaara had known why; Kankuro was scared of him. Both of his siblings were scared of him, not that he blamed them. But maybe under the fear, they still cared about him a little.

"Thank you, Kankuro," Gaara said softly. "That helps."

Gaara left Kankuro still staring after him in the kitchen, as he turned and went up to his room.

That night, for the first time in his life, Gaara had no dreams.

_.x.x.x._

That morning, the atmosphere at the breakfast table was somewhat less tense than its norm. Temari seemed to have felt bad about not letting Gaara go out with Neji the night before (she was still unaware that he had anyway), and had prepared Gaara a breakfast of pancakes and ham. His siblings still watched him carefully as he made use of the provided knife and fork, but finally relaxed when he made no move to use either as weaponry.

The relaxed feeling persisted on the walk to school. Temari and Kankuro walked beside him, instead of three feet behind him. It was an odd feeling, Gaara decided, to have his siblings treat him almost as an equal, instead of some kind of dangerous animal. It was kind of nice.

"_It is nice," _Shukaku agreed. _"As soon as they let their guard down completely, that's when we'll attack. It's so much more fun when they're not expecting it. Normally, I'd suggest a nice decapitation, but I think in this case, we ought to rip out their hearts. I'd love to see that look of betrayal on their faces before they die."_

It was an expression Gaara could imagine all too easily. He found, unlike Shukaku, the prospect wasn't appealing to him in the least.

As they approached the outskirts of the crowds making their way toward the school, Gaara spotted a familiar figure in a hooded sweatshirt headed their way. Sasuke didn't stop to chat, only slipped a note into Gaara's hand as he pushed past him.

"_Seems to be his favored method of getting his message across," _Shukaku noted wryly. _"Crude, maybe, but effective." _

Gaara glanced quickly at the note in his hand before walking on, giving no more indication that he'd even noticed the boy that had just passed by him.

The note that he now tucked into his pocket read, "Avoiding a repeat of yesterday; meet in the greenhouse at lunch."

It didn't say anything about whether Naruto and Neji would be included in this meeting, but Gaara decided to mention it to them, anyway. As Naruto had said, they were a club now, and had to stick together.

"_Blech,"_ Shukaku made a retching noise. _"Friendship; disgusting."_

Gaara wasn't really sure he'd consider Naruto and Sasuke friends, though he supposed the definition of the term did fit. It was another of the odd, kind of nice, changes in his life. Maybe if he kept this up, he'd end up almost normal. Well, as normal as a teenager with a demon in their head could be. Things finally seemed to be getting better for him.

The feeling of the universe righting itself increased when they finally arrived at the campus, and Gaara found Neji and Naruto both waiting for him on the lawn. It seemed as though the two still hadn't worked out all of their differences, as they were blatantly ignoring each other. But they both smiled when they saw Gaara approaching.

Temari and Kankuro unobtrusively headed their own way then, letting Gaara stop and talk with his friends.

"I brought the book you wanted to see," Gaara told Neji. He dug through his backpack for a moment. He still hadn't gotten a new bottle for the sand; it had nested itself in the bottom of the bag, moving to brush at his fingers affectionately as he took hold of the book on "Remembering Your Past Lives."

Neji accepted the book from him, flipping through its pages with interest. Naruto annoyingly leaned in to try and read it too, until Neji got annoyed at the encroachment on his personal space and whapped Naruto on the head with the book to make him back off.

"No fair," Naruto protested, though he did back off. "I want to get a look at that too. Both of you got to see some of your past memories, but I haven't gotten a turn yet. And I don't think Sasuke's even gonna come back today."

"I passed him on my way here," Gaara said. He pulled the note out of his pocket, glancing at it before handing it over. "I think he's trying to keep from being mobbed again today."

"Alright!" Naruto cheered, after reading over the note. "It's _my_ turn today! I'm finally gonna get to see what I was like before!" He seemed to conveniently forget that Sasuke's eyes seemed to reveal only the most depressing memories of a person's past lives, and Gaara didn't have the heart to remind him. Naruto seemed so excited to see his memories, _any_ memories, that he might not even care.

The bell rang, and the group reluctantly dispersed to head to their separate classrooms. Gaara was in a good enough mood, he even tried paying attention in his classes. It wasn't easy following the lectures, since he'd missed all of the previous ones, but for once the pages of his notebooks were filling with actual notes, instead of doodled carnage.

After the bell rang ending second period, Gaara waited until the other students had filtered out of the classroom before approaching the teacher. Shukaku had made it clear that he though Orochimaru-sensei wasn't trustworthy, but Gaara had decided to ignore the demon's warnings. It wasn't as though Shukaku ever had Gaara's best interests at heart, anyway.

Orochimaru-sensei smiled when Gaara stopped to talk with him. "I trust you've been enjoying the book?" the teacher asked.

"I have," Gaara admitted. "I was wondering if you had any others on the subject."

"Quite a few, actually," Orochimaru-sensei said, obviously pleased by Gaara's interest. "It is a fascinating time period, isn't it? Unfortunately, most of the earlier accountings have been lost. After a certain point, the Hidden Villages were considered no more than legend, but I have managed to collect almost all surviving records of its history. I like to consider myself… something of an expert on the subject."

Orochimaru-sensei's smile widened, and Gaara was struck by the resemblance it had to a serpent. Maybe Shukaku did have a point when he compared the teacher to a snake. "I'll bring you a few of the other books, since you're interested, "Orochimaru-sensei said. "And feel free to ask me if you have any questions. It will be nice to have someone to share my interest."

Gaara nodded and excused himself, heading to his Chemistry class. He barely made it before the bell rang. The teacher waited a minute to allow the last stragglers to take their seats, before beginning the day's lecture on molecular structure. The teacher had a droning monotonous voice, and it wasn't too long before Gaara lost interest completely. He pulled out his notebook, and under Shukaku's direction, began a doodle of their chemistry teacher with his head on fire.

"psst," a hissed noise caught Gaara's attention.

He looked up from the doodle to the source of the sound, finding that the pink-haired girl in the seat next to him was watching him with earnest expression.

"Hey," the pink-haired girl whispered, so as not to be heard by the teacher. "You're Sasuke's friend, aren't you?"

Gaara frowned. He couldn't remember if this girl had been in the group that had mobbed them the previous day at lunch, but it had been so chaotic at the time, he wouldn't be surprised if he just hadn't noticed her among the masses. "What's it to you?" he whispered back.

"Is he going to be here again today?" she asked hopefully. "I didn't get a chance to talk to him yesterday, and I really wanted to…"

"No," Gaara answered. "He won't be back today. Or ever again. I don't think he wants to talk to any of you."

The girl grimaced a little, but refused to give up. Gaara really found her tenacity annoying. "I know all those other girls scared him off, but if you see him, you can tell him I'm not like that. If I gave you my phone number to give to him, could you have him call me-"

She let out a sudden squeal, as her chair's legs abruptly snapped, and the chair toppled backward. The loud crash drew the attention of all the other students, and there was a following din as they all tried to get a better look at what had happened. In the confusion, only Gaara noticed the thin trail of sand retreating out from under the chair and back into his open backpack. In addition, only Gaara was aware of the demon's howl of laughter.

Gaara glanced into his bag, where the sand was curled once more like a contented cat. He couldn't help but smile, just a little bit. He had to admit, that was a hell of a way to end a conversation.

_.x.x.x._

Chemistry ended without further incident. The pink haired girl had been shaken up but unhurt. She'd been given a new chair, and hadn't tried to talk to Gaara for the remainder of the class. When the bell rang, Gaara grabbed his bag and slipped out of the classroom, making his way through rapidly crowding halls.

He decided the easiest thing would be to take a shortcut through the gym locker room in order to make it to the greenhouse. That way, he could probably avoid any of Sasuke's other fans, and keep any of them from thinking to follow him to their private meeting place.

There were a few students already in the gym, having decided to use their lunch period for a chance to play some basketball. Gaara walked around the edges of the court, and none of the players noticed him. He reached the door to the boy's locker room, but when he tried the knob, he found they were locked. Just his luck, to come all this way only to find his shortcut blocked. He'd just have to take the long way around after all. Unless…

Gaara unzipped his backpack, whispering to the sand, though he felt a little silly in doing so. "Hey. Can you pick the lock for me?" He figured if the sand could break a couple of chair legs, it might manage a decent lock picking as well.

A trickle of sand wound its way out of the bag, wedging itself into the keyhole. It wriggled about for a second, before the lock clicked, and the door was open. The sand retreated back into Gaara's bag with a pleased sort of air. Gaara checked to make sure he'd still not been noticed, before opening the door and stepping inside quickly. He closed the door behind him very softly so as not to make a noise, and locked it.

The locker room was quiet and dim, and there was a damp smell of wet from the showers, along with the sour underlying odor of unwashed gym clothes. Gaara made his way quickly forward, making for the other end of the locker room, which let out at the edge of the field. From there it would be a short walk to the greenhouse.

As he passed the first set of lockers, the sand let out a warning hiss that froze him in his tracks. Holding still, he could hear the sound of whispered words and heavy breathing; there was someone else in here.

Two someones, actually, he found as he peeked around the next row of lockers. The Gym teacher, Shiten-sensei, had Tashimura-sensei pinned up against the room's brick wall, and seemed to be quite involved in kissing the Advanced Literature teacher senseless. One of Shiten-sensei's hands was running his fingers through Tashimura-sensei's rumpled hair, while the other hand seemed to have wormed its way down Tashimura-sensei's pants. It seemed fairly obvious what that hand was engaged in.

Both teachers were far too occupied with each other to even be aware they had an audience. Tashimura-sensei, for his part, was clutching desperately at Shiten-sensei's shoulders with white-knuckled hands, letting out little keens and groaned praises whenever their lips separated from their kiss.

Gaara turned away from the scene, determining it was none of his business what the two teachers chose to do, or do to each other, on their lunch break. He'd be able to go out the other door onto the field without either of them ever knowing he was there. He'd only taken two steps when from behind him, Tashimura-sensei gave a pleased little groan, and called out a name that once more halted his progress.

"Mmm… _Neji!_"

Gaara turned around and looked around the lockers again, staring at the scene. Had he really just cried what Gaara thought he did?

It seemed that Tashimura-sensei had, and Shiten-sensei looked none too pleased. His ardor had been doused, and he withdrew both hands from their places. He plucked a handkerchief out of Tashimura-sensei's back pocket, using it to wipe his fingers.

Tashimura-sensei looked shamefaced. "I'm sorry, Shiten… I didn't mean to…"

"You said you were over him." Shiten-sensei's voice was flat, devoid of all emotion.

"I tried to get over him!" Tashimura-sensei protested. "But you haven't seen the boy, Shiten. You wouldn't blame me if you'd met him. He's so beautiful, so intelligent. He's like a god…"

"He's a student," Shiten-sensei said. "Even if he were interested, and thank God he isn't, you wouldn't just lose your license to teach; you'd end up in jail, Tashi. And don't you dare give me that it'd-be-worth-it bullshit."

"I haven't touched him," Tashimura-sensei said with rallied dignity. "I haven't done anything inappropriate. So don't you give me the lecture, Shiten. I _said_ I was sorry."

"Yeah, you're sorry," Shiten-sensei muttered. "You're always sorry. You know, one of these days I'll make you call _my_ name."

"Lunch period just got started," Tashimura-sensei said softly, the beginnings of a wicked smile curling his lips. "Care to try again?"

Gaara decided to take that as his cue to go, before the sand hissing in his backpack decided to do something more violent than picking locks. He walked with quick, silent steps through the locker room, and let himself out the other door. As soon as he was outside with the door closed behind him, he pressed his back against the support of the school building, and tried to calm the riot of disgust and fury roiling within him.

"_Should have killed him," _Shukaku snarled. _"He was there, we were there; it was the perfect opportunity. If you'd killed them both, there would have been no witnesses. You are made of so much fail." _

"He hasn't done anything wrong," Gaara whispered. "Even if he… wants Neji, he hasn't touched him."

"_And what will you do if he ever does?"_

Gaara tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. _"I'll kill him." _

The sand gave a dark purr of agreement.


	11. Equation

Gaara didn't know how long he stood there, back up against the school building, staring out across the sports field. He knew the others would be waiting for him, in the greenhouse. Neji would be waiting for him. Gaara wondered if he should tell Neji about what he'd seen and heard in the locker rooms. The mere thought of Tashimura-sensei touching Neji almost made Gaara physically ill. If the teacher ever did decide to act on his perversions, Neji ought to have some warning.

"_And you think he'll believe you?"_ Shukaku asked.

"Why wouldn't he?"

"_Let me put it this way,"_ the demon said. _"If you were him, would you believe you?"_

"He knows I wouldn't lie to him," Gaara said.

"_Does he?" _said Shukaku. _"He only barely believes you about the past life thing, and that only because you gave him evidence he couldn't ignore. With this, he'll really question your reasons for telling him. Might think you have some kind of ulterior motive. Especially if he finds out about those condoms you bought last night."_

"_I bought those because you made me!" _said Gaara.

"_Go ahead and tell yourself that if it makes you feel like less of a pervert. I hardly had to press you at all into buying them,"_ Shukaku said. _"You want Neji just as much as that sicko teacher does, even if you're not fully aware of it. And you two probably aren't the only ones. Warning Neji about everyone that wants his hot body would probably take all day."_

"_If it were up to you, I'd just 'kill' all his potential stalkers," _Gaara grumbled at the demon.

"_See, now you're talking sense,"_ agreed Shukaku. _"Glad to see you're finally seeing the wisdom in my suggestions. Some problems can really only be solved with a healthy dose of genocide." _

"…_I'm going to ignore you now." _

Gaara pushed away from the wall, finally making his way along the perimeter of the school building. The dirty little greenhouse finally came into view, the layer of brown dust that covered its windows effectively hiding its occupants. The door was very slightly open though, and Gaara could hear murmuring from within, punctuated with Naruto's irrepressible enthused shouts. Gaara pulled the door open and stepped inside the dirt-colored dimness.

The three occupants all looked up when Gaara entered. Sasuke was sitting in the back, arms folded and looking impatient. Neji seemed at least pleased to see Gaara, offering him a genuine smile. Naruto grinned from where he sat, rocking on the overturned bucket he was using as a seat.

"About time you got here!" Naruto said. "What kept you?"

Gaara just gave the bucket Naruto sat on a swift kick, toppling the blonde from his seat and sending up puffs of dust from where he toppled on the floor.

"Heyyy!" Naruto whined, as Gaara calmly took a seat on the bucket Naruto had just forcibly vacated. Gaara didn't even glance at him, making Naruto pout. "Could have just said if you wanted a seat; you didn't have to kick me!"

"Quit whining, loser," Sasuke said. "You sound like an idiot."

"You're just taking his side because he has that book and you want it," Naruto accused Sasuke.

"I'm not taking anyone's side," Sasuke said. "I wouldn't even be here if you hadn't dragged me into this stupid kid's game of yours."

"Excuse me, you're the one that wanted us all to meet here today!" Naruto said, the volume of his voice increasing on every word.

"Wrong; I wanted to meet Gaara here today, and only long enough to get what I came for," Sasuke corrected, voice even. "This club of yours is a waste of my time. I'm no closer to getting my answers than I was when I started."

"That's a great way to talk to people who are only trying to help you!" Naruto shouted.

"So far, you seem more concerned in helping yourself," Sasuke retorted.

"If you two keep that up, someone is going to notice we're here," Neji cut in before Naruto could shout his reply. "I trust you both are aware of what will happen if we're discovered?"

Naruto and Sasuke both got looks of intense unease, no doubt remembering being chased by the mob of screeching girls the day before. It shut the both of them up quite effectively.

"If you don't want us here, Sasuke, we can leave," Neji added.

Sasuke made a grumpy noncommittal noise, looking away. "Do what you want."

"Glad to hear it," Neji said. "Now, I don't know what kind of answers you're looking for, it seems we have a common goal of trying to learn as much as we can about whatever past lives we may have had. If those lives really are as interconnected as I'm thinking they were, it stands to reason that whatever we discover about _our_ pasts may also pertain to what happened in yours. Don't you think, Sasuke?"

Sasuke leveled a cold glare at Neji. "That sounds like a roundabout way of saying I don't get to leave yet."

Neji smiled in a polite, meaningless way, inclining his head slightly in agreement. "You can take it to mean whatever you like."

Sasuke didn't look like he cared much for that answer, but finally gave in. "Fine, whatever. But after this, I'm not giving out any more free trips down memory lane, got it?"

"Alright!" Naruto cheered. "My turn, my turn!"

"And while they're occupied with that," Neji said to Gaara, "we can try out one of your tricks." He pulled out the little book Gaara had given him that morning.

"I've been reading through it," Neji continued. "The first recommended hypnosis technique sounds simple enough. It didn't mention how long it lasts, though."

"The last time I tried it, I slept through the night," Gaara admitted. "Once you're into it, I wouldn't know how to turn it off."

"Don't worry about it," Naruto said. "Sasuke and I can wake you up before lunch is over. Go ahead and try it." Naruto caught Sasuke looking with interest at the little book in Neji's hands. "And _you'll _just have to try it later, Sasuke. You owe me a memory trip."

"That's what narcotics are for," Sasuke muttered, but obligingly turned away from Neji and Gaara. "Alright, Naruto. This is the only one you're getting. Don't whine to me if you don't like it."

So eager to try it, Naruto could barely sit still on the slightly dusty ground. Sasuke finally had to growl at him to quit fidgeting and not blink before he let his eyes shift, black melting to the purest crimson. Gaara could tell the moment Naruto was caught by that mesmerizing stare, when the blonde went completely still and slack-jawed.

Satisfied that the other two were occupied in their own project, Neji and Gaara made themselves as comfortable as they could in the cramped and dirty surroundings. The sand seeped itself out of Gaara's backpack, swirling briefly around the two, sweeping away the cobwebs and dust to allow them a much cleaner setting to relax in. They closed their eyes, letting their muscles loosen, their breathing even out, their heartbeats slow. Gaara could feel it this time, the meditative trance slipping over him, the present life slipping away to make room for the past yet to come.

Somewhere on the edges of this consciousness, Gaara could hear Neji's breathing, almost in time with his own. _"Please,"_ was Gaara's last thought before he was completely entranced, _"let this one be a nice memory, at least."_

_.x.x.x._

The dream, or memory, slowly drew itself out of the darkness and into Gaara's awareness. He felt his old life wrap around him, his old self superimposed upon him. While part of him, his current self, was seeing all of this for the first time, part of his mind offered up a host of memory and context, so that the role he played was comfortably familiar.

The air was faintly chill, though the touch of the sun on the skin was warm. The wind tasted of a little of salt and damp. The sun was shining through the gauziest layer of clouds, which changed the sky into a soft wash of pale blue. The long stretch of beach had sand of the lightest gray, colored darker in the places where the ocean waves lapped complacently at the shore. Four beach towels were laid out on the sand, in the shadows of a pair of large umbrellas. Four boys dressed for swimming were the only occupants on the beach.

Naruto crouched on the beach, wearing a pair of bright orange swim trunks decorated with yellow fish designs, using his hands as shovels to scoop the pale sands into enormous mounds. The sand castle he was building bore only a vague resemblance to true architecture; there was a large central sand pile, with several smaller spillover piles surrounding it on all sides. When he was satisfied, he stuck a leaf into the top of the central mound like a flag, and stood back to admire his work.

"There!" he announced with a great deal of pride. "That's the best sand castle ever!" He looked away from his castle, to see what his friend was building.

Gaara's sand castle boasted delicately wrought turrets and parapets, and came complete with a working drawbridge, and a host of tiny sand soldiers valiantly attempting to fight off a flying sand dragon, which spit sand flames at its enemies.

Naruto glared at the redhead. "You cheated."

"I didn't cheat," Gaara said. "You're just using inferior sand."

As that apparently was not a satisfactory enough answer, Naruto turned to a dark haired boy stretched out on one of the beach towels, arms folded under his head as he admired the drifting of clouds across the sky. "Shikamaru!" Naruto said, "Gaara cheated!"

"What exactly were you _expecting_ when you suggested making sand castles?" the boy named Shikamaru said placidly, not even looking away from his cloud-gazing.

"You're supposed to be on my side!" Naruto informed Shikamaru with a touch of exasperation.

"All I'm _supposed_ to be doing is relaxing," Shikamaru said. "Vacations like this are few and far between, and I intend to enjoy every minute. So why don't you take some clones and go bury yourself in the sand or something?"

Shikamaru of all people ought to know better than to say things that would rile Naruto up, Gaara reflected, at least if he was hoping for peace and quiet. But their little marital discordances weren't really his problem. As Naruto launched into his rant at Shikamaru on exactly what he thought of _that_ idea, Gaara's attention drifted to the fourth member of their little group.

Neji was stretched out on his own beach towel next to Gaara. His long hair had been braided, and despite exposure to the sun, his skin bore no tan. It was amazing how little Neji's complexion had been affected, in spite of the years living in the desert village. Like the rest of them, Neji was wearing only a pair of swim trunks, and Gaara let his gaze wander over what skin was left bare. He had an urge to smooth his hands down Neji's bare back, tracing the column of his spine, but he resolutely pushed the inclination away. Some part of him knew if he were to start touching Neji, he wouldn't be able to stop.

Neji was holding an opened book, but his attention had strayed from the text, gaze instead focused on Gaara's sand castle. It seemed the sand dragon had at this point won the battle, and was carrying off what appeared to be the castle's tiny sand prince, while the sand soldiers chased it armed with tiny sand weaponry. When Neji noticed Gaara watching him, he set the book aside and smiled at him. It was a warm, affectionate smile, and Gaara found himself smiling back.

"So what do you think of the beach?" Neji asked.

"Seems impractical," Gaara said. "So much water in one place, and all of it undrinkable."

Neji laughed. "I suppose living in a desert, that would be the first thing you concerned yourself with…"

"Hey Gaara!" Naruto's voice broke into their conversation. "Make your sand quit it!"

Neji and Gaara looked over, to where Gaara's sand dragon had decided Naruto's sand castle really made a much better mountain. The dragon had perched itself on the top, blowing its sand flames at the sandy soldiers that had followed it, and were now laying siege with sand catapults. Naruto's sand castle-mountain was crumbling under the attacks.

"Seems the sand decided to have some fun on this vacation, too," Neji mused.

Gaara snapped his fingers. The little sand soldiers reluctantly withdrew to their castle. The dragon curled up smugly on top of its conquered mountain, until it noticed Gaara glaring at it. The sand dragon grumpily slunk off to find itself a new mountain.

Above them, the sky darkened slightly, as gray clouds chased away the wispy white ones. Though the sun still shone through in streaks of light to highlight favored spots of sand and sea, rain began to fall.

"Aw man!" Naruto whined, as he and Shikamaru took refuge under one of the beach umbrellas, while Gaara and Neji retreated under the other. Gaara's sand castle and all its occupants swept itself back into the gourd to keep dry, while Naruto's castle did nothing more than sit and melt slowly in the rain.

Despite the minor unfortunate turn in the weather, Neji seemed unperturbed. He reached a hand out from under the umbrella, letting the plump raindrops splatter on his skin. "You know, there are legends that say when it's sunny and raining at the same time, somewhere close by a fox spirit is having a wedding."

Gaara looked over to where Naruto and Shikamaru were sitting together, in a close companionable way that testified to how comfortable the two were with each other. "Think we ought to tell Naruto that?"

"I think Kyuubi would mention it if he wanted Naruto to know," Neji murmured off-handedly. His fingertips traced an idle pattern up Gaara's bare leg. The little shivers that barely-there touch sent through Gaara had nothing to do with being ticklish. After spending most of his life without any form of physical contact with other people, Gaara now found himself addicted to Neji's touches. Happily addicted.

There wasn't even a thought to resistance when Neji drew Gaara into his embrace. Gaara couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere else. And when Neji kissed him, everything in Gaara's world was absolutely perfect.

_.x.x.x._

"Hey. _Hey._ Wake up already!"

Perfection ended all too soon, as Naruto's insistent voice broke through the trance and drew Gaara back to the present. It took him a moment to reorient on reality, the dusty sunlit windows of the greenhouse coming in to focus to replace the chill dapple of the ocean rain. The memory he'd just been immersed in clung to him like cobwebs, and he was reluctant to brush it aside. Beside him, Neji similarly seemed slow to wake from his own dream-memory.

Naruto didn't wait for the dream haze to fade completely before he was pressing questions on them. "So what'd you see? Was it cool? Was I there?"

"You were," Gaara said slowly, trying to discreetly stretch muscles that had stiffened up while he'd been entranced. "It wasn't much of a memory, really. My sand castle beat up your sand castle. What'd you see from Sasuke's eyes?"

"Nothing!" Naruto said, clearly irritated. "All that time staring, and all I got was watery eyes. I didn't get a single flashback. You two both got memories, and I get squat. What a gyp."

Gaara rubbed a stiff muscle in the back of his neck. "Sasuke's eyes show bad memories and regrets from your past life, right? Maybe you just don't have any."

"Maybe he just ran out of batteries," Naruto grumbled. The irritation left as quickly as it had come, though, and Naruto's bright smile was back in place. "So tell me about yours! What was I like? Was I cool?"

"You were loud," Gaara said.

"Oh, come on, give me something more than that! That's all Kyuubi ever says about me, too," said Naruto. He turned to Neji, who was still a little bleary-eyed from being forcibly woken to reality. "What about you, what was your memory like?"

Neji blinked at him, as though only just now noticing Naruto was there, much less speaking to him. Neji didn't answer Naruto, though, his gaze drifting away to focus on Gaara, staring. Gaara had no hope of puzzling out the enigma in that stare. Seconds passed, and Neji seemed to snap out of it, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I need to see your book for a moment, please," Neji said.

Gaara turned to his backpack to get it, but the sand had already crawled out, carrying the volume to Neji. Neji took it from the sand, giving the granular mass a little pat as though it was a puppy that had just fetched the mail. The sand hummed happily in response. Neji opened the book to the back, flipping through the index.

"What are you looking for?" Sasuke asked, moving over from where he sat to join their conversation. It figured he would be interested when the book was brought out.

Neji didn't answer, but apparently wasn't finding whatever he was looking for in the index. He began paging through various chapters, specifically the ones on Suna and Konoha, scanning the text, but the answers he was searching for apparently weren't there either. Finally he seemed to admit defeat, closing the book and allowing the sand to take it from him.

"There was something I saw in my memory," Neji finally explained to his waiting audience. "Something I could do; a sort of technique. I need to find out more about it. It doesn't seem to be mentioned in your book, however."

"There are more books," Gaara said. "Orochimaru-sensei has a collection of them. You could ask him about whatever you saw; he said he was kind of an expert on the subject."

"We still have a little time before lunch is over," Naruto said. "We could go ask him now."

"No way," Sasuke said, scowling. "I'm not going back in that school. Especially not to talk to _him._"

"You can just stay here then," Naruto said easily. "The three of us will go."

Gaara studied the odd expression on Neji's face. Neji wouldn't meet his gaze. "If you want to," he added softly.

"Yes," Neji said quietly.

The three of them gathered up their things to go, while Sasuke sat where he was, glaring at the lot of them. When they were almost out the door, Naruto paused and looked back at Sasuke.

"Should we meet here on our lunch period tomorrow?" he asked.

"Tomorrow's Saturday," Sasuke reminded him flatly.

"Oh, right." Naruto frowned. "We could meet here anyway. There'll just be fewer of your fan-girls to dodge."

"Can't," Gaara said. When the other three looked at him for explanations, he looked away and muttered, "I see my psychiatrist on Saturdays."

There was an awkward pause at the reminder that outside this little group, Gaara was still considered to be crazy. Not only crazy, but a possible danger to others.

"Well that's okay," Naruto finally said with a bright grin, dissipating the tension. "We'll just meet here on Monday then. We should get going now, if we want to talk to Orochimaru-sensei before fourth period starts. Bye Sasuke!" He all but pushed the other two out of the dusty greenhouse and back out into the sunshine.

The three of them were quiet as they made their way into the school and through the hallways, walking at a fairly fast clip. Even Naruto seemed not to have much to say.

Orochimaru-sensei was writing out the lesson plan and assigned reading for his next class period on the front board when the three of them walked into his classroom. "Ah, Gaara," the teacher greeted his student. "And you brought friends."

"Sensei, I need to ask you a question. Gaara said you might know," Neji said. When Orochimaru-sensei just nodded, Neji took a breath and asked, "Do you know anything about something called _byakugan_?"

And expression of surprised amusement passed over Orochimaru-sensei's face. "Where did you hear about something like that? In my whole collection, there are only a few books that even mention the byakugan."

"You know of it, then," Neji said, seeming to relax a small degree.

"I know as much about it as anyone could, I suppose," Orochimaru-sensei said. "As far as history is concerned, the byakugan is a forgotten technique. The clan that possessed it long ago kept it a closely guarded secret, and most knowledge of its abilities died out when they did." He paused, then added, "Though perhaps it is not as forgotten as I'd thought, if you've learned of it."

"Only what it was called," Neji admitted. "I know very little about what it actually did. That's what I hoped you could tell me."

"Well let me think…" Orochimaru-sensei said. "The byakugan was an ability that affected the eyes, and it was exclusive to a particular clan in the village of Konoha. It is said that wielders of this ability were capable of seeing long distances, seeing in all directions at one time, seeing through objects, and even seeing flows of chakra in people and things, and in seeing them, being able to affect them in small ways. There are actually quite a few rather impressive powers attributed to the byakugan, though how much of it is mere embellishment to the legend, I couldn't tell you. I've read theories suggesting that another eye-based technique known as sharingan descended from the byakugan, or that the two share the same origins."

"I haven't heard about that one," Neji said. "What does the sharingan do?"

"For someone who knows an obscure technique like the byakugan, I'm surprised you haven't heard of the sharingan. It's mentioned far more frequently in the texts I've read," Orochimaru-sensei said with amusement. "It too was a prized technique, belonging to a particular Konoha clan. When in use, the sharingan turned the wielder's eyes red, and with this sight the wielder was capable of memorizing and copying the techniques of others. Also, certain heightened forms were capable of inducing several varying forms of hypnosis upon those that looked directly into the sharingan."

"That sounds just like Sasuke's eye trick," Naruto said. When the other three just looked at him, Naruto's eyes widened, as he just realized what he'd said out loud. He looked a t little sheepish. "Oops. I maybe shouldn't have said that."

"Sasuke Uchiha?" Orochimaru-sensei asked. He looked interested, but not particularly surprised. "Itachi's younger brother? You say he's got an 'eye trick' similar to the sharingan?"

"Do you believe these techniques really existed?" Neji asked, instead of answering Orochimaru-sensei's question. "Abilities like this sound like they belong more to myth than real history."

"They do sound more like something you would find in a comic book, don't they?" Orochimaru-sensei mused. "But I personally think these techniques were real, and that these gifted individuals in a distant past were capable of tapping into abilities that people of this day and age would dismiss as legend. I think that there is a power within people, the fuel for these superhuman skills, but people have forgotten how to access it. With proper training, humanity could learn to tap those powers again." He smiled and shrugged gracefully. "Or, so I like to believe."

Naruto, Neji and Gaara all looked at one another, as if locked in silent debate. "I vote we tell him," Naruto finally said. "He is the expert on this stuff." Gaara nodded slowly, looking to Neji to see what he thought of the matter.

The vote was apparently unanimous, as Neji turned to Orochimaru-sensei again. "We have proof that those techniques, that the history we read in the book you gave Gaara, isn't merely legend. Sasuke does have an ability with a startling resemblance to what you described as sharingan. Looking into his eyes brings out what we can only assume are… memories. They're visions, of a different place and time. Events in these visions seem to coincide with the history in the book."

"It's like we were there," Naruto said. "We _were_ those people. Those stories are our stories."

"Reincarnation. A fanciful concept, but an appealing one. And a fitting one, I think. I had always wondered," Orochimaru-sensei said. "Sasuke's older brother Itachi used to come by my classroom with increasing frequently for the few months before he chose to end his life. He too was quite curious as to the history chronicled in my book collection. The sharingan and its abilities particularly interested him. He never said so directly, but there were hints his brother was somehow involved in his obsession. The poor boys. But for all Itachi's obsession, I never would have guessed that the sharingan still existed."

"It's not just the sharingan," Gaara said quietly. He opened his backpack. The sand seemed reluctant, but with a little coaxing from Gaara, a few tendrils drifted up to twine about in the air. "I don't really understand why, but the sand just recently started moving all on its own." Gaara considered telling Orochimaru-sensei about Shukaku as well, but the demon gave a low, warning growl, and Gaara decided to omit that particular detail, just for now.

"So it is true," Orochimaru-sensei said, eyes wide with fascination. He reached out to the twisting coil of sand, but it retreated, dipping and swaying away from his grasp, hiding itself away again in Gaara's backpack. Orochimaru-sensei lowered his hand, but his smile never wavered. "In all my years of study, I never expected to see such things for myself. The myth revealed to be true, at last. And embodied in a few students at the very school I teach at, no less."

"We're all just trying to understand it," Neji said. "The one book we have is not enough. Perhaps even several would not be enough. We need to know everything."

"For those who do not learn from the past are doomed to repeat it. I wonder, what it is you boys were returned to this world for, after so long? Surely not just to revive the forgotten techniques of the past. Is there some hidden hand of fate that guides you all now, something left undone in your past that needs correcting? Or is it all mere coincidence that brings you together now?" Orochimaru-sensei mused. He smiled, shaking his head. "I suppose we won't know until we get started. After what you've told me, what you've shown me, I will of course help as much as I am able. And who knows; perhaps you will be able to fill in some of the blanks for me, as well. It could be mutually beneficial to us all."

The first bell rang, ending lunch. In five minutes, fourth period would start.

"I think our school's lunch period will prove too short for our needs," Orochimaru-sensei said. "We ought to consider meeting after school to discuss this further."

"I can't," Naruto said, with genuine regret in his voice. "I have to be back at the House as soon as school's over, unless I'm in an _actual_ after school sport or club or something."

"If that's all that's necessary, that can be easily taken care of," Orochimaru-sensei said. "All a school club needs to become official is a teacher advisor to endorse and oversee it. And as I am not currently overseeing any club…"

"You'd be advisor for the Ninja Club?" Naruto laughed. "Oh man, Sasuke's gonna flip out…"

"It will be up to you to convince him to come, of course," Orochimaru-sensei said. "I think perhaps he needs my help most of all."

_.x.x.x._

They'd left Orochimaru-sensei's classroom, as they did have their own classes to attend. Naruto waved a hurried farewell to his friends before running for the staircase, running up the stairs two at a time. Gaara was reluctant to leave Neji to attend his own class. There'd been something a little off about Neji ever since he'd woken from his dream-vision. Neji seemed to be avoiding looking at him. Perhaps whatever he'd seen had not been so pleasant after all.

Gaara heard the sand shifting about in his backpack, softly rustling amid papers and books. A tiny whirl of sand drifted out, a small, slender tendril. Gaara didn't remember leaving his backpack unzipped, but he wouldn't be surprised to find that the sand had chewed a little hole in the nylon of the pack for easy escape. He'd have to see about getting it some other container. No one in the crowded hallway seemed to notice the little wisp of sand, but Gaara would soon have to find another method of containing it or risk it being discovered.

The little sand vine reached out to wrap itself around Neji's wrist, giving a soft, inquisitive little hum. Neji looked down at it for a moment but did not shake it off. He seemed to come to some sort of decision.

"Can you hold off on going to fourth period for a few minutes?" Neji asked Gaara. "There's something I want to talk to you about."

Missing fourth period was starting to be a bad habit of Gaara's, and he knew Temari and Kankuro wouldn't be happy about it if they found out. He found, though, that he didn't particularly care. "It's okay if I'm a little late," Gaara said. "Won't you get in trouble though?"

Neji shrugged it off. "Tashimura-sensei is lenient on that sort of thing."

Gaara frowned at the mention of the teacher. He wondered if Tashimura-sensei really was that relaxed on the subject of tardiness to his class, or if he simply made exceptions for his favorite student. It wasn't something he was going to mention to Neji, though.

The second bell rang, and the hallways were soon emptied of last minute stragglers, as they ran toward their respective classrooms to hopefully miss being marked tardy. Gaara and Neji abruptly had the hallway all to themselves. They walked a ways further, Neji looking preoccupied with his thoughts. They ended up sitting on the top step of the staircase, looking down to the empty floor below.

"The memory I saw today," Neji began slowly. "There was more to it than just what I said. There was a training ground in Konoha, a piece of dense forested area, surrounded by a high fence. They called it the Forest of Death, because so few of those that went in, ever came back again. It was full of strange, mutated creatures, insects and lizards and the like, all with an appetite for human flesh, when they could catch it. Not that either of us ever had need to worry about them. The fence was more to keep the forest in, than to keep anyone out. And… in the memory I saw, it was where we would sneak in, you and I, when we were visiting Konoha and wanted… to be alone."

Gaara just looked at him, not grasping what it was Neji was saying right at first. Neji wasn't saying any more, and he wouldn't look at Gaara, his eyes staring fixedly on the stairs.

"_He means you two went out and hid in the forest when you wanted to have sex,"_ Shukaku filled it in for him. _"You know, sex? The horizontal tango? The monster mash? The twist and shout? The-"_

"_I get it already!" _Gaara snapped at the demon, before Shukaku could supply any more euphemisms for the act.

Gaara was finally beginning to understand why Neji had been uncomfortable about the memory he'd had, and why he'd refrained from mentioning it in front of Naruto and Sasuke. Of course Neji must have known what their life before must have been like. They had been married, in that time before. But knowing that and seeing it were two very different things, Gaara supposed. And Gaara knew Neji didn't want him to expect more now than what they had. That must be why he was telling him this now.

"It's alright, Neji," Gaara said quietly. "I remember what you said, so you don't have to worry. Whatever things were like between us in our past life, I don't expect things to be like that now. In this life, we can just be friends."

But Neji was shaking his head, finally turning his gaze to him. "That's just it, Gaara," he said. "I don't know that I can be 'just friends' with you. Not when I have dreams that I'm in love with you. And I've already waited for so many lifetimes for you… Maybe the way things were, is just how they're supposed to be."

Neji kissed Gaara then, softly, slowly, giving Gaara ample opportunity to run away, should that be his desire. But leaving was the last thing Gaara wanted to do now. He drew closer to Neji, fitting into his embrace as though that was where he'd always been meant to be. At long last, everything in Gaara's world was finally perfect.

And even should this joy be fleeting, for now, it was enough.


	12. Transfusion

Neji had kissed him.

A great many thoughts tumbled one over the other in Gaara's head, but always returning to their point of origin, an endless repetition of stunned disbelief stumbling to bring order to a life quite suddenly up-ended.

_Neji had kissed him._

Fitting now that it was all he could seem to think of, since at the time of the event, there had been precious little of it. Not that thinking, or lack of such, had been pressingly important, since his body seemed to have taken over quite well on its own, thank you. His mind pointed out, quite logically and rightly so, that Gaara had never kissed Neji before, not in this lifetime at the very least. And yet his body, quite contradictorily in Gaara's opinion, behaved as though kissing Neji had been the most natural thing in the world for him to be doing. And not only that, seemed of the mind that they ought to be doing more of it.

And a good thing too that his body had chosen to react on its own, as Gaara had been quite incapable of directing his own actions. The kiss had been but a brief moment, and yet it seemed to have been much longer, an isolated moment of time, perfect and unending. It had ended though, and Neji had politely excused himself, saying something about needing to get to class. Or at least, that's what Gaara thought he'd said; he'd heard the words, but his brain had not been functioning enough to process them. Gaara was left sitting on the stairs staring after him in a daze.

The daze had not cleared when he finally stirred himself to walk to class. He'd made some sort of excuse to the teacher for his lateness, though he couldn't for the life of him remember now what it was he'd said. He could only hope he'd been coherent.

Neji had _kissed_ him.

It had been so sudden, so surprising. Gaara had spent so much time convincing himself that he'd be able to stand just being friends with Neji, because he'd thought that was what Neji had wanted. That's what Neji had _said_ he wanted, but Neji had changed his mind. Now Neji wanted… wanted… Gaara? Was such a turn of events even possible? Had that really just happened?

Gaara stared at the notebook set on the desk in front of him, opened to a fresh blank page. But he didn't draw; his pencil tapped a quite, erratic beat on the paper. Gaara mused that it matched the beating of his heart.

"_I believe now would be an appropriate time to interject an I-told-you-so," _Shukaku put in. _"Go on, you can say it. Say, 'You're right Shukaku; you are a wise and awesome demon who knows so much more than a pathetic mortal like me, and I suck.'"_

The pencil snapped in half as Gaara's grip tightened, earning a few brief curious glances from the other students. _"I shouldn't have let him kiss me."_

"_Why not?" _Shukaku said. _"He's ours again. There should be lots of kissing. And petting. And the tearing off of clothing. And a nice round of ass-grabbing. Maybe some biting." _The demon purred. _"Biting is good."_

"_And that's why it can't happen again."_

"_What, biting?"_

"_No; you!" _Gaara informed the demon. _"Wherever we go, you never change! All my life, you've destroyed anything and everything you could. You've hurt people; a lot of people. Why should this time be any different?"_

"_I already told you, I won't hurt Neji," _Shukaku said.

"_If not him, then someone else. Naruto, or Sasuke, or Orochimaru-sensei, or any one of the other people here," _said Gaara.

"_Is there an 'all of the above' option?"_ the demon asked hopefully.

"_You realize that if we hurt someone, we'll have to move again,"_ Gaara pointed out.

"_So what? We've moved a lot. I kind of like it. New places, new people to hurt. Leaving a trail of the maimed and the murdered behind us wherever we go,"_ Shukaku said.

Gaara didn't bother to correct him about the 'murdered' part, since Shukaku knew very well that Gaara had never killed anyone. But apparently the demon had not yet grasped the gravity of the situation. _"If we hurt someone, and have to move, we'll never see Neji again."_

"_We'll take him with us,"_ the demon said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

"_We can't take him with us,"_ Gaara told him.

"_What part of 'he is ours' do you not understand?"_ Shukaku demanded. _"You'll do what I tell you to do. And if I say we'll take him, then we will."_

"_If we hurt someone,"_ Gaara said slowly, _"or worse, kill them… Neji won't _want_ to come with us."_

"_Huh?"_ the demon said.

"_Neji's not like you. He wouldn't think it was funny if he knew that we hurt people. He wouldn't like us anymore,"_ Gaara told it.

"_So… no more kisses?"_

"_No more kisses." _

Shukaku had apparently not considered that possibility. _"Huh. I'm going to have to think about that."_

And the demon lapsed into silence, presumably to do just that. Gaara was given a few precious moments of peace, but without Shukaku's annoying chatter to distract him, Gaara's own thoughts picked up where they'd left off, to plague him anew.

Reflecting back on it now, Gaara realized that it probably hadn't been a very _good_ kiss, even. It seemed to him that Neji had been just as surprised at himself for initiating the gesture as Gaara had been to receive it. As sweet as it had been, he was willing to bet that it wasn't anything like the kisses they must have shared in Neji's vision of them in the Forest of Death. Perhaps despite what Neji had seen in that memory, despite what he'd said to Gaara as they sat on the stairs, Neji was still uncertain. Gaara wouldn't blame him if he were; Gaara too was uncertain, as to whether he wanted Neji because he loved him, or because his previous incarnation had loved him. Still, despite all his misgivings, the simple fact remained;

Neji had kissed him.

And Gaara had really liked it.

_.x.x.x._

Fourth period ended almost without Gaara noticing, so caught up he was in his thoughts. He didn't even register that the bell had rung until the other students around him started gathering their things and leaving their seats, on to attend the next class. Shukaku had laughed at him for his absentmindedness, but there was little rancor to it, and Gaara suspected the demon was preoccupied with its own thoughts. He really ought to give Shukaku more such challenges to think through on a regular basis; it had the affect of keeping the demon blissfully quiet for long stretches at a time. Shouldn't be too hard to find suitable brain-teasers to absorb the creature's attentions, either; for all the demon's taunting and menace, Gaara had always suspected Shukaku was not of the highest intelligence.

"_I heard that,"_ Shukaku growled at him. _"If you need a demonstration, I'd be more than happy to show you just how creative and inventive I can be."_

"_I think I'll pass on the demonstration," _Gaara informed the demon quickly. Shukaku was violent enough on a good day; he didn't want to see what he'd do when he was feeling _creative._

He walked toward his next class without giving much thought or notice to the route, only to come to a halt just outside the door to the boy's locker room. Just hours ago, he'd walked in there to accidentally witness Shiten-sensei molesting Tashimura-sensei against one of the walls. Though he told himself he shouldn't care, he couldn't help but wonder what _else_ in that room the two of them had defiled with their actions. Quite abruptly, Gaara turned away from the locker room, deciding not to even bother changing for gym class that day.

It didn't matter that much, since he hadn't planned to participate in the class today, anyway. Though, he knew he was going to have to start taking part in the gym activities soon. For once in his life, there was a possibility that he might be attending the same school for longer than a handful of months. That being the case, he would have to put more effort into his classes if he hoped not to fail all of them.

But he would bother with being an active participant in gym _next _week. For now, he sat on the sidelines, watching as Shiten-sensei conducted the class. Today's lesson was archery, which the rest of the class seemed eager to engage in. A good part of the beginning of the period was spent in a lecture on proper safety while handling what could be easily used as a dangerous weapon rather than for sport. Then came the demonstrations of the use of the archery bow, and Gaara found himself rather unsurprised when it turned out that Shiten-sensei had excellent aim. Each arrow pierced the fabric-covered straw target close to its exact center. After Shiten-sensei gave the others leave to try it, none of them came close to matching his skill.

Gaara wanted to hate Shiten-sensei, but he was finding the task more difficult than he'd expected it to be. He could easily hate Tashimura-sensei, for the sheer nerve of wanting Neji. And Gaara had expected to hate Shiten-sensei by association, but he couldn't ignore the fact that Shiten-sensei had been, or at least had tried to be, the voice of reason for his lover. Shiten-sensei didn't want Tashimura-sensei with Neji any more than Gaara did. There might be something of an ally in the grim-faced Gym teacher.

"_We don't need allies,"_ Shukaku said. _"I still say we should just kill the both of them. You'll notice Shiten wasn't trying to talk Tashimura out of it out of any kind of concern for _Neji._ He's just trying to keep his boyfriend out of jail."_

"_It doesn't matter what his motives are, only that for the moment, we share a common objective; keep Tashimura-sensei as far away from Neji as possible," _Gaara replied idly, as he watched the other students trying to impress one another despite the fact that none of them had any talent for archery. Gaara was starting to regret not participating in class today; he thought it might be enjoyable, though he didn't think he'd have much more aptitude at the sport than any of the others.

"_If you let the sand help you," _Shukaku pointed out, _"then you would never miss a shot."_

And with every projectile to bury itself in its intended target, Gaara could pretend it was piercing right into Tashimura-sensei's brain. It was a satisfying thought.

"_Why pretend?"_ Shukaku asked. _"If you want to kill him, just kill him. The sand was- is- a superior weapon to those toy bows and arrows. With the sand, it would be a simple task to just crush his head. He wouldn't even see it coming. Speaking of the sand, have you notice that it's been growing?"_

Gaara hadn't really been paying much attention to the size of the sand, but now that he thought on it, maybe his backpack had been getting a little heavier. Had the mass of sand was gathering more of its granular brethren into itself? And if it had, for what purpose?

"_To protect you,"_ Shukaku said, as thought Gaara should have known that already. _"To fight for you. To kill for you. That's what it did for you in your other life. It was much bigger then, stronger. It's trying to become what it was. For you."_

Gaara didn't know if he should be flattered by that, or worried.

"_Be afraid,"_ Shukaku said solemnly, _"Be very afraid."_

Gaara spent the rest of the class period wondering if Shukaku was joking.

About five minutes before class was over, the other students headed to the locker rooms to change out of their gym clothes and back into their uniforms. As Gaara had been the only one who hadn't changed into gym clothes in the first place, he was the only student left in the gym. Shiten-sensei ignored him, picking up a clipboard he'd left on the sidelines, and heading toward the door on one side of the gym, which led to his office. Gaara grabbed his backpack and followed after the teacher. Though he hardly knew what to say to him.

Shiten-sensei hadn't closed the door, and didn't look up as Gaara approached. The gym teacher was sitting in a nearly too-small chair that had clearly seen better days, and had pulled open the top drawer of a file cabinet that had been crammed into one corner of the tiny office. He was filing away the papers that had been on the clip board, replacing them with other documents from another folder. He didn't say anything as Gaara stood there in the doorway watching him, though Gaara got the impression that Shiten-sensei knew very well that he was there. And still the silence stretched.

"So," Gaara said, "did you ever manage to make Tashimura-sensei call your name?"

Shiten-sensei halted in mid-motion, turning his attention slowly onto Gaara. There was something dark about his grim expression now, an anger barely held in check. "What did you say?" Shiten-sensei asked, his tone of his voice low, and dangerous.

"Today at lunch," Gaara clarified, ignoring the warning in that tone. "In the locker room, you told Tashimura-sensei you were going to make him call _your_ name."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Shiten-sensei said, standing. He was tall, much taller than Gaara was, and Gaara knew he was meant to be intimidated by Shiten-sensei towering over him. Shiten-sensei felt threatened, and was instinctively trying to take the upper hand in the situation.

"I'm not going to tell anyone," Gaara informed him quietly.

Shiten-sensei didn't look as though he believed him. "Then what is your purpose in telling me?"

"Neji Hyuuga," Gaara said simply.

Shiten-sensei winced at the mention of the boy's name, his rival for Tashimura-sensei's affections. "What about him?" he asked gruffly, though he had a pretty good idea.

"Neji is my…" …_boyfriend?_ "…my friend. And I want Tashimura-sensei to stay away from him."

"You and me both, kid," Shiten-sensei said. "Don't see that we can do much about it, though. Neji is in Tashi's class. They see each other every damned day."

"As long as that's the _only_ place they see each other," Gaara said.

"Look, Tashi hasn't touched the boy," Shiten-sensei said. "And I'm doing my damnedest to make sure he doesn't. And eventually, Neji's gonna graduate, and the two won't see each other ever again. Tashi'll have to get over him then."

That seemed like far too long to wait to Gaara, but he realized there wasn't much more the two of them could do to force the issue. Unless he went with Shukaku's suggestion, and killed Tashimura-sensei. The sand made a low, eager rustling in his backpack at the thought.

Shiten-sensei frowned a little, peering around Gaara at the bag. "Did something just move in there?"

"No," Gaara said quickly, taking a step back. "I have to get to class." He turned and walked purposefully out of the gym, to attend the final class period of the day.

"_He probably thinks you've got some kind of animal in there," _Shukaku said. _"He'll never guess that it's really just sand."_

"_I don't want him to suspect I've got _anything_ in there." _Gaara gave his backpack a shake, trying to communicate to the sand that he wanted it to keep quiet in there. The sand made a little whimper, like a kicked puppy, but obediently fell silent. Gaara felt kind of bad for having to hide it like that, and resolved to let it run around his room a little when they got home. Maybe that would cheer it up.

Shukaku laughed. _"It's not alive, you know. It doesn't really think for itself, just because it acts like it does. It's an extension of your subconscious, not a pet."_

Which suggested Gaara's subconscious was playful, affectionate, and eager to please. Gaara wasn't sure he liked the insight.

"_Just wait until somebody really pisses you off,"_ Shukaku said. _"The sand can be one of the fiercest, deadliest forces you've ever seen."_

And Gaara really didn't like how _that_ reflected on him.

_.x.x.x._

When the final bell rang, the doors of all the classrooms were thrown open, pouring forth a seemingly endless stream of students eager to be done with this place, to forget all the schoolwork and demands laid on them by their many teachers, so they could just enjoy the weekend and all it had to offer. Clusters of girls gathered around the lockers, giggling over who was dating whom, which parties they were going to that weekend, and what they would be wearing. Boys too discussed their weekend plans with each other, topics ranging from cars and sports, to beer and sex. With very few exceptions, every conversation heard in the hall was self-involved and vapid. Summer vacation had been over for no more than a week, but the students missed it fiercely, and were planning on recreating it, albeit in an abbreviated form, in the two days of the week they had free from the obligations of their education.

"_If you ask me, we'd be doing them all a favor by impaling them one atop the other on the flagpole out front. It'll save them from finally having to realize that all their lives are empty and meaningless," _Shukaku said to Gaara as he pushed his way through the crowds in the halls. _"We could make student shish kabob. We'd need a really big barbecue, though…"_

Gaara was actually tempted, as he passed by yet another group of girls eagerly gushing in high-pitched voices over the juiciest gossip of the day in; Sasuke Uchiha. But, Gaara reminded himself, just because he was surrounded by vain, selfish idiots, it did not give him the right to skewer them all on the thirty-foot pole out front of the school building. Even if he really wanted to sometimes.

Finally they made it out of the crowded hallway, out the front doors and onto the sunlit lawn. From here the crowds started dissipating, as students boarded the buses or got into the cars parked in the lot, or making their way home on their own two feet. Gaara was quick to spot Temari and Kankuro waiting for him, but his gaze left them and lingered over the rest of the crowd, hoping to spot Neji. He didn't see him at first, and had almost given up, when at last he caught sight of him near the gate, again talking with his cousin Hinata.

As though he somehow sensed Gaara watching him, Neji looked over, meeting Gaara's gaze. When Hinata noticed that Neji's attention had drifted, she glanced over at Gaara as well. She gave a shy little smile and a wave to him, then said something in parting to Neji, before hurrying away. Neji glanced after her, but remained where he was as Gaara approached.

Even before Gaara reached him, he could see the hesitancy in Neji's expression, an uncertainty he couldn't completely hide. It seemed Gaara had been right in his earlier guess that things would now be awkward between them. The last three class periods would have given him ample time to start doubting himself, questioning the logic of his own decisions.

Gaara took a deep breath, not sure what he ought to do, or say, if Neji had changed his mind about wanting to be anything more than friends with Gaara. "Hi," Gaara finally offered in greeting, for lack of anything better to say.

Neji's uncertain smile gained a bit of warmth. Gaara took that as a good sign. "Hello," Neji said in return. "How has the rest of your day been?"

Gaara thought back over the last several class periods he'd spent in a mixture of confusion and anxiety. Not to mention the little chat he'd had with Shiten-sensei. "Somewhat… less than enlightening."

Neji's expression took on a serious cast, as though he knew exactly what Gaara meant by that. And for all that Gaara knew, Neji probably did. Neji had probably been going through the same thing. "About what happened after lunch…"

Gaara's hopes sank. "If you've changed you're mind already, it's okay-"

"I haven't changed my mind," Neji hastened to assure him. But there was an unspoken 'yet' hanging at the end of that statement. "I just need to… think it through a little further. Perhaps with a few more recovered memories, we would be better prepared for it."

Gaara nodded, deciding that under the circumstances, that was probably better than he should have expected. "That sounds reasonable," he finally said. "So I'll… see you on Monday then?"

"Yes," Neji said, his smile genuine and, Gaara hoped, affectionate. "I'll see you on Monday." He lingered a second, as though there were something more he was contemplating saying. In the end, it went unsaid, and Neji turned, and walked away.

Gaara watched him until Neji was out of sight, before turning around to face his siblings, who were standing behind him, but giving him a reasonable amount of space so it would not feel as though they were encroaching. Both of them were giving him nearly identical, inscrutable looks.

Deciding he did not like that look at all, Gaara brushed right past them without a word, in the direction of home. He felt rather than heard them fall into step just behind him. The three of them walked home in silence, each lost to their own thoughts.

_.x.x.x._

When they got home, Kankuro headed straight for the kitchen for his customary after school snack, and as usual, Gaara headed for the stairs to go to his room. But Temari didn't head for the office to start on her homework, as she usually did.

"Gaara?" she called to him, trying to hide the hesitancy in her voice, just as Gaara had stepped onto the first stair. "I'd like to talk to you for a moment."

Gaara turned to look at her, watching as she gave an almost imperceptible shiver at his emotionless stare. But she didn't back down, and so Gaara stepped off the stair to approach his sister. As he approached, he wondered if she'd somehow found out about him sneaking out the night before. Or perhaps this was to be another discussion of how he wasn't putting effort into his schoolwork. He got those kind of lectures from time to time. Though it was still too early in the school year for Temari to know that his grades were in jeopardy.

Temari didn't sit down on their couch, and neither did Gaara. The two stood for a moment, their gazes locked, silently regarding each other. "Gaara," she said finally said, slowly. "You didn't flush the toilet this morning."

He stared at her. Of all the things she could bring up, that was _not_ what he was expecting. He'd heard mentions that girls were sticklers over that sort of thing, but why on earth would she choose to tell him _that_?

And then it dawned on him. Every morning, after all the other little rituals of getting ready for the day, the last thing Gaara did was toss his anti-psychotic medication in the toilet. And that morning, he'd forgotten to flush away the evidence.

Temari watched as her brother came correctly concluded the reason for this discussion. "How long have you been off your medication, Gaara?"

"A few years, at least," he answered, watching her expression transform into a mixture of shock and horror. All these years he'd been un-medicated, and she'd never known. "I can't remember when exactly I stopped taking them."

"Those medications are for your own good," Temari said carefully. "They'll _help_ you-"

"The purpose of those pills," Gaara said in a dark tone, "is to turn me into a medicated zombie, to make me easier to deal with. That's what you and all those damned therapists wanted all these years; for me to be incapable of doing anything more than staring at a wall and drooling."

She looked stunned that he would accuse her of ever wanting such a thing. "No, that's not it at all! I never wanted that. I just wanted you to get better, so you'd be free of those voices in your head."

"There's only _one _voice, and he's not the sort of thing you can cure with pills," Gaara muttered. Another thought occurred to him. "This morning, you let me use a knife and fork at breakfast." That was unprecedented; for years, he'd never been trusted with anything so hazardous, if it could be avoided. "If you knew I hadn't taken my meds…"

"It was… kind of a test," Temari admitted.

She'd known he was off his medication. She'd wanted to see if he'd still attempt to do harm when presented with viable weapons. That's why she and Kankuro had watched him so closely as he ate. "And here I thought you two had actually started to _trust_ me," Gaara said, his voice flat, betraying no emotion. Certainly giving no hint to the hurt he felt. It didn't matter how well he'd been doing lately. In their minds, if he wasn't on medication, he couldn't be trusted.

"No, wait, that's not-" Temari said as Gaara turned away from her.

"Don't talk to me," Gaara commanded, ascending the staircase to his room. He could practically feel his sister's gaze on him as he walked away from her, but she did not try to call him back, and she did not follow him.

Gaara entered his room, closing the door behind him with more force than necessary, and wishing that the door had a lock. It didn't matter, though; he didn't think his sister would be coming after him. She'd be too scared to. Always too scared of him. It didn't matter what Kankuro had said, about being there for him; Gaara always had been, and always would be, an outcast even in his own family.

"_You're not gonna start writing bad emo poetry now, are you?"_ Shukaku asked suspiciously.

"Shut up," Gaara told the demon. "This is all your fault, anyway."

"_My fault? I didn't do anything,"_ Shukaku said. _"Lately."_

Gaara dumped his backpack on the floor and flopped down on his bed, glaring up at the ceiling. "Just leave me alone."

"_Oh wonderful. That's a great idea. And where exactly do you expect me to _go_, anyway?"_

Gaara heard his backpack unzip from where it sat on the floor, and the gentle rustlings of the sand as it drifting out of its confinement. He sat up a little as the sand glided over, curling up beside him on the bed like a cat. Gaara smiled faintly, running his hand over the mass of granules. It really was getting bigger than it had been. He wondered how big it was going to get. At some point, it would be impossible to hide it all in his backpack. He watched as it shifted and rippled under his touch, letting out a hum. Seemed as though it was trying to cheer him up, or at least comfort him in its own, limited way.

Things sure had been different since coming to this town, Gaara mused as he petted the sand. He felt as though the whole world had changed in just a few short days. Meeting Neji, Naruto and Sasuke, learning that he wasn't crazy and discovering what Shukaku really was, unearthing memories from a past life, and gaining a strange mass of sand with a mind of its own for a pet. If he were to ever consider talking to his therapists again, he'd have a hell of a lot to tell them.

But he knew that would be an exercise in futility. If he said anything to them, it would be considered simply manifestations of his mental disease. They'd want to give him more medication, pills that he would never take.

Gaara's fingers dug into the sand, though it didn't seem to mind. He was getting so damned sick everyone thinking he was crazy.

His thoughts drifted to the only four people in the world that _didn't_ think he was crazy; Neji, Naruto, Sasuke, and Orochimaru-sensei. After some consideration, Gaara edited the list; he was pretty sure Sasuke thought they were _all_ a little crazy. But for once in his life, Gaara had people he could talk to.

"_Oh, come on. I've _always_ known you weren't crazy,"_ Shukaku said.

"Of course you did. It wouldn't have been nearly so fun _driving_ me crazy if I were there already, would it?" Gaara lay back on the bed, frowning. Everything that had happened over the day had taken their toll on him, the good and the bad and everything between culminating into exhaustion.

Tomorrow he would have to attend his therapy session. He wasn't looking forward to it, and not only because he hated going to therapy in general. This time around, Temari would deem it her duty to inform his psychiatrist that he had not been taking his medication. He could only imagine what kind of lecture he'd be getting for that one. But unless they were willing to go to the effort of holding him down and forcing the pills down his throat- a endeavor doomed to fail, if Gaara and the sand had their way- then they could not force him to take his meds.

But all of that was a concern to be dealt with tomorrow. Tonight, just for now, he just wanted to rest…

That thought had barely finished forming, before Gaara had drifted into sleep.

_.x.x.x._

And in his sleep, Gaara dreamed. Once more, he was in Suna, alone in the tiny basement of his- the Kazekage's- home. It looked little different than it had in his previous vision of the place; the only furniture in the room was the small bed moved here for his use, and a lone table by the bedside, with the plates and remains for meager meals gone by stacked atop its tiny surface. Gaara still wore the handcuffs, that the villagers foolishly- or perhaps desperately- believed could hold him down here.

Rats scurried about the floor in the darkness, scavenging at crumbs, becoming quite bold when Gaara did nothing but watch them. These days, the rats were pretty much the only company Gaara had. In his dream memory, Gaara knew that Neji's visits to him in this makeshift prison had been fewer, and briefer.

And Gaara knew why.

He could hear him upstairs, moving quietly in the attempts to keep Gaara from knowing he was there. Neji was a shinobi, and as such, usually very good at hiding his presence. But Gaara could hear him now, making his way painstakingly from one room to another, knowing that by this point, it would be a trial for Neji just to stand, much less walk. It hurt Gaara, to know Neji was up there now, in pain and alone. Neji wouldn't come down here to visit Gaara any more, because he didn't want Gaara to see him like that. He didn't want Gaara to know. Neji had entered the second stage of the plague. Within a day, two at the most, Neji would be dead.

Gaara shifted suddenly, causing the rats to squeak in startled terror and scurry back to their hidey-holes. From a small, hidden place under the bed, however, the sand emerged at Gaara's command. The villagers hadn't wanted Gaara to keep the sand with him; if Gaara were struck by the plague, allowing him access to his deadliest weapon would be the worst kind of mistake. But the villagers could not sever Gaara's connection to the sand; wherever he went, the sand would always be with him.

The sand waited but a moment, before engulfing the chains that bound Gaara in the basement. The silence of the room was filled with a low rasping, as the sand made quick work of corroding the chains down to nothing. Gaara stood, brushing the iron shavings off his arms, that and the red marks on his wrists the only indication that the chains had ever existed. Thus freed, Gaara ascended the stairs out of his makeshift prison.

Their normally tidy house was a mess, papers, bits of cloth and clothing, and debris had been scattered across the floor in every room, and left where it lay because no one had time for little, petty things like cleaning it up again. Gaara moved from room to room with silent footsteps, hardly sparing a glance at the sad remains of what had been his home. The sand gave soft, mournful sighs as it followed in his wake. Rats hissed at him from the shadows before scurrying out of his way. Finally Gaara ascended the stairs, and in his bedroom, found the one he was looking for.

Clothes and torn sheets were scattered and draped over every surface, and the room had a vague stink of vomit. Neji was sitting on their large bed, one hand gripping the bedpost so tightly his knuckles were white. He was taking low, gulping breaths, every muscle tense as he tried to repress the uncontrollable shudders that wracked his body. He was holding them off much better than some of the other plague victims Gaara had seen, when the plague had first struck the village.

Gaara stepped inside the room, and though he was certain he'd made no sound, Neji's gaze snapped to him. "Gaara," Neji whispered. He wrapped his arms around himself, but still he shook helplessly. "You're supposed… to be downstairs."

"Do you want me to go?" Gaara asked quietly, walking over to the bed.

Neji sighed, shaking his head. "I didn't… want you to see…"

"I knew you were sick," Gaara said. He sat down beside Neji, wrapping his arms around him, feeling the way Neji trembled as he held him. "I've known for days. You've been sick like the others, but you've still been working so hard, just to keep everything in the village together…"

"I can't anymore," Neji said. "I've hid… as much of the symptoms as I could. I've used the Gentle Fist style on myself, paralyzing some of my muscles, and it held off the shaking for a while, and no one else noticed. But I can't hide it anymore." He blinked pale, hopeless eyes at Gaara. "It'll progress to stage three soon. I'm dying."

"I know," Gaara said. "That's why I'm here now. I have a favor to ask." He reached a hand toward the headboard, opening a small hidden panel and removing a single kunai from the secret compartment. He held the weapon out to Neji, handle first. "I want you to kill me."

Neji's trembling increased, and he pushed Gaara's hand away. "No. You don't have the plague, and you're not likely to get it. You can still live…"

"And why would I want to?" Gaara asked. "You're the only thing I have worth living for now. When you die, I will go insane just as surely as if I _had_ caught the plague. _Someone_ would have to kill me then, but there'll be no one left that can. I'd rather end it now, quietly. In my own home, with the one that I love. And I need you to do it."

"I _can't_."

"I need you to," Gaara repeated. "If I could do it myself and spare you this, I would. But the sand would never let me take my own life."

"But you think it will let me?"

"I know it will never harm you. If there is anyone with a chance of getting through my defenses, it would be you," Gaara said. He held the knife out to Neji again. "Please, Neji."

Neji took the kunai slowly, staring at the weapon, hilt clenched in a trembling hand. "Are you certain?"

"Yes," Gaara said, with absolute conviction. "I want it to be you."

Neji closed his eyes, nodding in a short, jerky motion.

Gaara smiled gently. "Thank you, Neji. And… I'm sorry." He kissed Neji then, a last kiss; a sad, sweet goodbye.

There was a faint taste of salt, and he realized Neji was crying. And then a sharp shock of pain, as the kunai was stabbed into Gaara's heart. The sand had not even tried to block the blow.

The world blurred and dimmed in his eyes, the pain thundering through his head and his veins, threatening to take him down into darkness. But Gaara kept his eyes open, staring at the tear streaked face of the man he loved more than anything. He couldn't get any breath, and the burning in his lungs was just one more pain. Everything was redness and fire, but soon the fiercer it burned, the less he could feel it. He was dying, quickly.

"I love you," Gaara said told the miserable face of his beloved. He couldn't hear his own words, wasn't even sure he'd managed to get the words out. But he wanted Neji to know. "I love you."

Neji nodded, and with a swift yank, pulled the blade from Gaara's dying body. Just as Gaara's world gave over to the darkness that clawed at him, the last thing he saw was Neji turning the blade on himself. The kunai already slick with Gaara's lifeblood pierced into its final resting place in Neji's own heart.

_.x.x.x._

Gaara woke to find himself very much alive, in his own room, in his own bed. The sand had curled up in a mound atop his legs, as though impersonating a sleeping cat. When he sat up, it flowed away to a spot beside him.

He took a deep breath, touching the place where he'd felt the kunai penetrate. There was no wound, of course. It had been just a dream. A memory. The memory of his own death.

Neji had killed Gaara because Gaara had asked him to. And then Neji had taken his own life, joining Gaara in death. There had never been a betrayal. It had been suicide.

"_Damn," _Shukaku whispered, its voice tinged with awe. _"I got it wrong? I- hey, where are you going?"_

Gaara had climbed off the bed, scooping up his backpack and ushering the sand back inside of it. "I'm going to go see him."

"_That's all well and good, but it's nearly two in the morning,"_ Shukaku pointed out. _"You've been asleep for hours."_

Gaara glanced at the clock, then at the darkened sky outside the window to confirm the truth in the demon's statement. He hadn't realized so much time had gone by. It didn't matter though. He was going to see Neji. It was an urgent need, an instinct he could no more deny than he could stop breathing. And so he shouldered his backpack, opened his window, and climbed out.

He ran most of the way there, and didn't even feel winded. Somehow, recovering the memory of his death made him feel more alive than he ever had.

Gaara only slowed when he neared Neji's house. As was befitting the late hour, the curtains were all closed, and there was no hint of light escaping through the windows to suggest that anyone was even awake. Gaara knocked anyway, but the minutes stretched without anyone answering the door. All the occupants were probably all in bed, fast asleep.

Not that Gaara planned to let that stop him from seeing Neji.

He unzipped his pack a little, letting out a tendril of sand to perform its lock-picking trick on the door. After the sand fiddled with it for a moment, the lock clicked open, and Gaara let himself inside the house. He closed the door behind him as gently as he could, all but holding his breath. He didn't dare make a noise, for fear of waking someone up.

"_Well, you did used to be a ninja in your previous life,"_ Shukaku pointed out. _"This ought to be easy."_

Gaara bumped into a narrow table in the hallway, knocking off the vase that perched atop it. Gaara tensed for the ensuing crash, but the sand snapped out and caught the porcelain piece just before it hit the ground, carefully depositing it back in its proper place.

"_You were saying?"_ Gaara asked, when he finally managed to breathe again.

"_I didn't say you were a very _good_ ninja… If I were you, I wouldn't be trying to make a career out of it."_

Gaara ignored that, heading up the stairs, guessing that the bedrooms would be up there. At the top of the stairs, a partway open door revealed a glimpse of a darkened, tidy bathroom. Flanking it on either side were closed doors. One of which, Gaara guessed, would be Neji's room. As there was no indication of which one it was, Gaara just picked one, moving over silently to open it.

The door opened smoothly to reveal a dimly lit bedroom. Gaara could not tell at first glance the identity of the bed's occupant, but Neji's backpack was leaning against the desk in one corner of the room. Gaara also noticed that on top of the papers on that desk was also the little paperback book Gaara had let Neji borrow. Pleased that he'd chosen the right room, Gaara stepped into its dim interior, closing the door very quietly behind him.

As Gaara approached the bed, it seemed Neji sensed the intruder into his room. Gaara froze as Neji stirred from sleep, opening his eyes and pushing the blanket back. He sat up slowly, facing the trespasser. It seemed that despite the dimness, Neji could see Gaara perfectly well.

"Gaara?" Neji questioned, his voice still soft with sleepiness. "What… are you doing here? What time is it?"

"Late," Gaara answered. "Or early, depending on your point of view."

Neji yawned, flipping on a little table lamp at his bedside, flooding the room with sudden, muted light. Gaara still blinked at the sudden illumination, until his eyes adjusted. Neji didn't move from where he sat in bed, looking at Gaara in a sleepy bewilderment.

"I'm not dreaming, am I?" Neji asked. He thought about that for a second, then shook his head, answering his own question. "No, I must be awake. In my dreams, you're usually dead. But that still doesn't explain why you're here."

"I had that dream," Gaara said. "The same memory you had. The one where you killed me."

Neji frowned at that. "I do believe I apologized for killing you-"

"But you didn't have to," Gaara said. "That's what I came to tell you. You must not have seen the whole memory, because it wasn't murder, and it wasn't an accident. I… I _asked_ you to kill me. And you did. And then you killed yourself."

Neji stared at him. "Why would you ask me to kill you?"

"Because you were dying anyway," said Gaara. "And I didn't want to live without you. I asked you to kill me, because I couldn't kill myself. You're not to blame for any of it."

"I'm not?" Neji smiled a little then. "While I am of course relieved to hear that, I can't help but wonder why you felt the need to visit my house in the middle of the night to tell me this. Surely it could've waited at least until a decent hour of the morning."

"Well, it wasn't the only reason I came here," Gaara confessed softly.

"Really? What's the other reason?"

Instead of answering, Gaara strode across the room, watching Neji watch him. At the bedside he paused, looking down at Neji's curious and expectant expression. Even in the dim lighting of the room, Neji's eyes seemed to gleam with a fierce brightness, all icy opalescence and frozen lightning. They were the same eyes, the same as his previous incarnation had had in Gaara's dreams. At the core of their beings, the Neji of the past and the Neji of the present were the same person. And Gaara loved him now, just as he'd loved him then.

Gaara leaned down and kissed Neji. But it was nothing like the shy, gentle kiss they had shared on the stairs of their high school. This kiss was needy and craving, the kiss of someone who had lost everything they loved once, and had just now gained it all back. Neji tensed at first, startled, then let out a little sigh that parted his lips, allowing Gaara a taste of him. The sweetest thing Gaara had ever tasted.

_Remember,_ Gaara silently whispered to Neji as he deepened their kiss. _Remember that you loved me. Remember that I loved you._

Whether Neji remembered or not was unclear, but he kissed Gaara back with an equal fervor. His hands slid up Gaara's arms to his shoulders, tugging him down and tumbling him onto the bed so their positions were equal. The kiss fluctuated, hot and desperate one moment, slow and exploring the next. So too did their hands explore, almost of their own will. At some point Gaara noted that Neji's hands had found their way under Gaara's shirt, though he had no clear idea when that had happened. As quickly as it was noted, it was forgotten, Gaara's thoughts passing it by to touch on all the other sensations he was drowning in. Neji's hair was the softest thing Gaara had ever felt, Neji's embrace the most comfortable place Gaara had ever been. He thought the heat between them might eat him alive, but he didn't think it would be such a bad way to go.

At last they parted by silent mutual consent, the both of them breathing heavily as though air were in short supply. Neji brushed a few strands of hair away from his face, an amused, sensuous smile gracing his features.

"You came all this way," Neji breathed, "in the middle of the night… so you could kiss me?"

"It would seem so," Gaara murmured in return. "Was that a mistake? I know… you wanted to think more about it…"

Neji's fingertips trailed a soft path down the back of Gaara's neck. "I think that I'm done thinking now," he whispered, before drawing Gaara into another kiss.


	13. Analysis

Gaara woke slowly from a dream in which he was warm and comfortable, more relaxed and at peace than he could ever remember being. It took him a good five minutes before he realized he was actually awake, and that the peacefulness wasn't dissipating in spite of this. And the reason for this lazy euphoria, Gaara quickly realized, currently had an arm draped in sleepy possessiveness across Gaara's chest, his breath even and warm on Gaara's shoulder.

Turning slowly to one side, Gaara took a long, leisurely moment to study his sleeping companion. Neji looked artlessly tranquil in his sleep, without the strictures of the careful composure he help himself under while he was awake. While Gaara was often impressed, even attracted by, Neji's air of regal elegance, he found great appeal in Neji this way as well; natural and open in this state of repose.

Gaara didn't know exactly what time it was, but from the square of sunlight cast from the window onto the wall, it was a fair bet that it was well into morning. Gaara knew he shouldn't have stayed the night. When Temari and Kankuro got up and discovered he was not in his room, or anywhere else in the house, he could only imagine what chaos that would cause. They would be in a panic, wondering where he had gone, and what havoc he was instigating. Possibly they would even call the police, to report that their mentally disturbed brother was on the loose somewhere in the city. It was going to be a mess. Gaara found he couldn't muster enough compassion to care.

He was glad he had come here. There had been no admissions of love, but those few kisses easily took first prize as the best thing that had yet happened in Gaara's life. They'd ended wrapped in each other's arms, Gaara's fingers threaded through Neji's impossibly soft hair, Neji's half-lidded eyes gleaming in the dimness with their own spark of sweet, sultry light. Gaara had been, as always, entranced by those eyes. With that heated stare fixed solely on him, Gaara couldn't help but wonder how he'd ever found Neji's gaze to be cold.

He hadn't wanted to leave, and so as easily as that, Neji had let him stay. Gaara almost wished he hadn't. If it had been hard to even think of leaving before, after a night in Neji's embrace, it was going to be near impossible now. And all they'd done was kiss! He didn't dare let himself imagine what it would be like if they every progressed to something more…

He ought to leave now, he knew. Ought to get back to his house and through his window into his room, hopefully before his siblings even noticed he was gone. He also knew that, despite what he ought to do, he wasn't going to. He trailed his fingertips over the arm draped across him, watching as Neji stirred, opening his eyes. Neji smiled at him, that same warm, sleepy smile he'd given him the night before, the one that made Gaara feel breathless.

"Good morning," Neji murmured. "Did you sleep well?"

With Neji looking at him like that, Gaara was very proud to manage even a less-than-eloquent, "Uh-huh."

"Me too," Neji said. He stretched at his leisure, then gave Gaara a soft kiss. A chaste kiss really, but the easy intimacy of it made it twice as sweet for its simplicity. Gaara decided he could easily get used to this. "Can you stay for breakfast?"

Some of Gaara's peaceful mood at last faded. "I shouldn't," he said, reluctantly. "My brother and sister will worry if I'm not home soon." Which was probably the understatement of the year. Temari, at the very least, would have _conniptions_ if he weren't home soon. Especially after the little talk they'd had the day before. She'd think his leaving was her fault. There was nothing like a panic attack to start the day off right.

"Too bad," Neji murmured. "It's Hinata's turn to make breakfast, and she's a good cook."

"Hinata? Your cousin?" Gaara said. "She lives here?"

Neji shook his head. "She and her sister are just staying here for the week. Our parents are out of town. Their father and mine jointly run an import/export company, and often have to travel for business. Our mothers like to go along most of the time, go sightseeing and shopping while their husbands work. It's sort of become a tradition; when our parents are out of town, Hinata and Hanabi stay in the guest bedroom downstairs. We take turns cooking meals."

"Must be nice…" Gaara murmured faintly.

"It is, except when it's Hanabi's turn to make dinner," Neji said. "She has an incurable fondness for very spicy foods. She made curry once that nearly melted the silverware."

Gaara shook his head. "That's not what I meant," he said. "I meant… growing up in a family like this. It must have been nice."

"I… suppose it was." Neji looked a little surprised that Gaara had said so. "What about yours? You haven't said much about your family. What are they like?"

"My brother and sister are scared of me, but I guess over the years, I've given them enough reason to be," Gaara said. "My father works all the time to avoid ever having to come home. I only see him when it's time for us to move again. We think he stays in a hotel most nights, and only stops by the house once a week to leave money on the table for food and paying the bills. I don't even know what kind of job he's gotten this time around. And as for my mother… she disappeared when I was four, after she failed in her attempt to kill me."

"Your mother tried to kill you?" Neji asked, a bit incredulously. "I… I'm sorry." It was a weak sort of apology, but Gaara didn't mind. He imagined there wasn't much you _could_ say to that kind of revelation.

"It's alright. I don't actually remember it," said Gaara. "All I remember is that one day, she just wasn't there anymore. It wasn't until about a year later, when I tried to set Kankuro on fire, that anybody even mentioned it. For once Kankuro's anger at me overcame his fear, and he yelled at me that it was my fault our mother was gone, that she'd been right about me and he wished she'd succeeded. When Shukaku quit laughing, I made him explain what Kankuro was talking about."

It was odd explaining this to Neji. Gaara had never told anyone this. But then, he'd never really had anyone to tell before, except his therapists, but he rarely even told them what he'd eaten for breakfast, much less about his mother. He wanted to tell Neji, though. The memories didn't hurt, though Gaara knew they ought to. It hardly felt like it had even happened to him; it was like he was telling the story of someone else's life.

"_Denial at its finest,"_ Shukaku said. _"Trust me; this happened to you. I was there, I remember."_

"_At least one of us does." _Out loud, Gaara continued, "I remember that my mother used to be nice to Temari and Kankuro, but a little withdrawn around me. I think she always knew that I was a bit… different, and I think it made her nervous. I tried to do things that would make her like me more. Shukaku said that one day, I had stolen all of my sister's dolls, and my mother's make-up case. I pulled all the heads and limbs off the dolls, and used red nail polish and lipstick as fake blood, and staged a massacre in the living room. I'm willing to bet it was Shukaku's idea, too. Then I showed my mother what I'd made for her, like it was a gift. Shukaku said that she freaked out, and dragged me to the bathroom. As she was filling the bathtub, she said that she couldn't take it anymore. That she'd always known there was a monster inside of me, and she had to get rid of it before it killed her… Then she threw me in the water, and held me under until I lost consciousness."

Gaara paused, belatedly realizing that at some point in his explanations, Neji had pulled him close, holding him in an easy, comforting embrace. Gaara had been so caught up in his story, he hadn't even noticed. It felt nice to be held like that. No one else had ever done that for him. Gaara didn't know what he's been expecting from telling Neji this. Condemnation, maybe. After all the things Shukaku had made Gaara do over the years, he'd always simply assumed that when his mother had tried to kill him, he'd probably deserved it. But Neji's silent consolation was beginning to change his mind. Maybe it hadn't really been his fault.

"What happened then?" Neji's softly voiced words brought Gaara back out of his musings.

"I don't know," Gaara admitted. "Shukaku said when I woke up again, I was on the bath mat, and my mother was gone. I vaguely remember… going back to the living room to play with the remains of the dolls on the floor, like nothing had happened. And I haven't thought much about her since."

"I'm a little amazed you can talk about your mother almost killing you so calmly," Neji said. "Like it doesn't even bother you."

"It doesn't bother me, anymore," Gaara said. "She was right; I might have killed her, if she'd stayed. I did, and still do, have a monster inside of me. I've hurt a lot of people."

"Because of this 'Shukaku' of yours?" Neji asked.

Gaara nodded. "He's a demon. Although I didn't know that's what he is, until I moved here and Naruto told me. Shukaku likes to hurt people. In fact, you're the only person I've met that he doesn't want to kill."

"I suppose I should be flattered."

"Coming from him, it's the highest kind of compliment," Gaara assured him. "I think he likes you."

"Great. It's always been my fondest dream to be admired by a homicidal demon," Neji said. "My life is now complete."

"It's a lot better than being hated by him. I'm getting really sick of listening to him snipe about Naruto and Kyuubi. Apparently the two demons have some kind of past life grudge against each other, and-" Gaara paused, as the full weight of what they were discussing hit him. Except for Naruto, who had a demon of his own, Gaara had never been able to talk about Shukaku to someone without them treating him like he was crazy. "Wait… you believe me about Shukaku?"

"Shouldn't I?" Neji said. "In the last week, I've seen sand that moves on its own, and had dreams that I learned were actually memories reflecting a past life that I lived, in which I was a ninja and married to you. I'm finding that with a little practice, the suspension of disbelief gets easier every time. You've told me some very peculiar things in the short time I've known you, things I had a hard time accepting, but you've yet to be wrong. So I think if you say you have a demon in your head, I will choose to believe you."

That was possibly the nicest thing anyone had ever said to Gaara. Gaara had mentioned Shukaku to Neji before, but had avoided giving a full explanation of what Shukaku really _was._ Because it was a simple fact that anyone Gaara told about the demon (excepting Naruto, of course) would immediately assume he was insane. Now that Neji finally believed him about the past lives, Gaara had not wanted to push his luck. But now Neji seemed to take it in stride, accepting it as true because Gaara said it was. His trust in Gaara was baffling, and at the same time, incredibly touching.

And Gaara could even begin to fathom how to tell Neji that.

He was saved from having to figure that out, however, by a timid little knock on the door.

"Neji?" Hinata spoke from the other side of the door. "Are you awake? Breakfast is ready."

"I'll be down in a few minutes," Neji assured his cousin. He waited until he heard Hinata's soft agreement, and her footsteps retreating down the hall, before speaking to Gaara. "Are you sure you don't want to stay for breakfast? You could call your siblings, to let them know you'll be staying…"

Gaara was tempted, but reluctantly decided against it. Even if he did call his siblings to let them know where he was, he doubted they'd allow him to stay. "I really should get going. I have an appointment with my psychiatrist in an hour or so, anyway."

Neji nodded, remaining where he was as Gaara reluctantly got up. "You know," Neji said conversationally, "we never really did get to go to dinner the other night. Not that chips and soda in the park wasn't pleasant, of course. But if you'd like to, we could give actual 'dinner' another try. Say… tonight around seven?"

Gaara blinked at him. "Like a date?"

"Yes," Neji agreed readily with a smile. "Exactly like that."

"Yes. I mean, I'd like that," Gaara said. Then he frowned. "But I'm not sure that I can. My sister thought I ought to talk with my psychiatrist, before determining whether I can be allowed out on a date with you. They think I might hurt you. I won't, of course."

A look of confusion passed over Neji's face. "They'd let you stay the night here, but they don't think you can be trusted to go to dinner with me?"

"Well, I didn't exactly get permission to be here…"

"Oh, I see. That does make it awkward then, doesn't it," Neji said. "Well, why don't you go and talk to your siblings and your psychiatrist, and give me a call sometime this afternoon as to whether dinner will be possible."

Gaara nodded, relieved by Neji's understanding. "Yeah. And… thanks." Gaara didn't know what specifically he was thanking Neji for. Everything, he supposed.

Neji accepted Gaara's gratitude, too, without pressing what it was for. "You're welcome. And Gaara? I'm really glad you came here."

Okay, Gaara thought. Maybe _that_ was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him.

_.x.x.x._

Gaara took his time walking home, though he knew the smart thing would be to hurry. As he neared his house, he was somewhat surprised to see there were no police cars parked out front. He knew by now it was too much to hope his siblings were not awake. But maybe after the argument he'd had with Temari before he'd gone to his room the day before, his siblings just assumed he was avoiding them. They might not know he was ever missing.

He paused at the end of the block, weighing his options. If his siblings didn't know he was missing, and thought he was still in his room, they would be surprised to see him entering from the front door. However, if they did know he had been missing, spending all the effort climbing up the drainpipe to make it seem like he _hadn't_ sneaked out would be a wasted effort.

"_And why the hell should you care if they know that you were gone or not?"_ Shukaku questioned. _"In fact, I think its better that they do know you left. They need to be reminded who is really in charge here."_

"And who is really in charge here?" Gaara asked aloud.

"_Me," _Shukaku said. _"Duh."_

Though Gaara didn't agree with the demon's logic, he decided to go in through the front door. If only because he didn't feel like climbing up the drainpipe. Besides, he was still mad at Temari, and part of him hoped she did know he'd run away from home for the night. He knew it wouldn't help anything in the long run, might in fact hinder his plans for going on a date with Neji that very night, but somewhere inside, his vindictive side demanded to be appeased.

However, when he opened the front door to find his sister anxiously pacing the floor, so caught up in her worry that she hadn't realized she was chewing on her thumbnail and thus ruining her manicure, Gaara's guilt momentarily warred with his vindictiveness. Temari stopped in mid-pace the moment he entered, a look of vast relief suffusing her face. If he had been anyone else she was so worried over, he had no doubt she would have hugged him.

"Where have you _been?_" were the first words Temari said to him, though clearly she was still too relieved to put much anger behind the question. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? Kankuro's out looking for you right now! I was really afraid you might not come back…"

"I'm back now," Gaara pointed out the obvious. "You can call off the dogs. Is there anything for breakfast?"

"Gaara, this is serious!" Temari said. It seemed her worry was giving over to frustration, now that he was safely home. "Kankuro told me this isn't the first time you've gone out on your own at night. Where have you been going? What have you been doing?"

"Couldn't sleep, decided to go for a walk," Gaara said simply, walking past her and into the kitchen to see about getting something to eat. He was hungry now, and really regretting not staying at Neji's for breakfast.

"_Why don't you tell her the real reason you've been leaving the house?"_ Shukaku suggested with a laugh. _"I bet she'd love to know you've been sneaking out in order to moon over your boyfriend."_

Gaara heard his sister follow him into the kitchen, hovering in the doorway with obvious agitation. "You haven't… been hurting anyone, have you?"

"Is that why you were so worried?" Gaara asked. He glared briefly at the padlock on the utensil drawer, deciding that he didn't have much of a chance at convincing Temari to let him use a knife for buttering toast. "I'm glad you were so concerned about my well-being. And _no_, I haven't done anything to anybody. You can relax; we don't have to move again." _Yet._

"Gaara, I know you're mad at me-"

"Don't give yourself so much credit," Gaara interrupted, pulling the carton of milk out of the fridge. He didn't bother getting a glass out of the cupboard, instead drinking straight from the container. "In order to be mad at you, I'd actually have to _care_ about you."

A stunned silence followed this declaration, as Gaara had known it would. "Um. I think I hear Kankuro returning," Temari finally said, trying and failing to mask the hurt in her tone. "At least promise you'll talk about this with your psychiatrist? We really have been worried, and you should at least tell someone if something is bothering you…"

Gaara shrugged, too ambivalent a gesture to be taken as an agreement, but it was the best Temari would be getting. She finally gave a despondent sigh at his unresponsiveness.

"We'll be leaving in about twenty minutes for your appointment," Temari said. "At least brush your teeth before we go." She gave up trying to talk to him, and left him to cobble together something for breakfast.

Gaara poured himself a bowl of cereal, and dumped the rest of the milk on it. Since he hadn't gotten Temari to open the silverware drawer for him before he chased her out, he had to make do with a wooden mixing spoon to eat with. He ate in stony silence. For some reason, today it tasted like dirt.

_.x.x.x._

The uncomfortable hovering silence continued to follow the three siblings as they walked toward Alecander Memorial Asylum for Boys a short while later. Neither his brother or his sister tried to bring up where Gaara had gone the past couple of nights, not that he would have told them if they had. Despite the promise Temari had wanted Gaara to make, he wasn't going to tell his psychiatrist anything about it either. Talking to the psychiatrists was a waste of time. None of them ever really listened to anything he had to say before deciding on the newest medication that would supposedly "cure" him.

His latest psychiatrist was no different. She was a stiff-collared, no nonsense sort of woman, with pinched lips, and glasses that were probably supposed to make her look professional, but instead just made her eyes look too big for her head. He'd only gone to see her twice before, and hadn't told her anything. Despite his blatant ignoring of her existence, she had written copious notes in his file, declared to Temari that she had known exactly what was wrong with Gaara, and what combination of anti-psychotic medication would cure him. Gaara had no idea how she came to the conclusion that she knew anything about him, since he hadn't said a word to her. Maybe she thought she was psychic. If that was the case, maybe she was the one in need of a psychiatrist.

But Dr. Iira came highly recommended, and so Gaara was scheduled to visit with her every Saturday from now until eternity, until he was cured, or did something to cause them to move again.

There were of course other psychiatrists around the city, but they more specialized in depressed and lonely housewives. All those really qualified to treat the more mentally disturbed held their practices here; at Alecander Memorial Asylum.

Gaara glared at the Asylum as they approached. He hated that place. Even with the thickly padded walls between him and the interned patients, some sound still filtered in through the vents; sometimes broken whispers, sometimes hysterical laughter. Sometimes screaming. It was a place to jail the psychotic and the deranged, to protect them from society and society from them. And Gaara knew, if he ever crossed that invisible line separating assault from murder, this was the sort of place that he would end up in.

"_Then it's a good thing we'll be visiting once a week,"_ Shukaku said. _"If you figure out the layout of the place, we'll know all the escape routes before you even get locked up."_

For some reason, that wasn't a very comforting thought.

The three of them walked up the immense stone steps that led up to the door, stepping into the asylum's nondescript white entryway. Everything about this place was designed to be as bland and inoffensive as physically possible, to provide its patients with a relaxed and soothing environment. Personally, Gaara had always figured that the copious amounts of white and beige were enough to drive anybody crazy if they weren't there already.

While Temari checked in with the receptionist at the front desk, Gaara sat down in one of the waiting room chairs, preparing himself for another hour of being psychoanalyzed while he sat in rebellious silence.

Shukaku's hiss was the only warning Gaara got before a voice called out to him, a voice sounding both surprised and pleased. "Hey, Gaara!" Naruto greeted brightly as he walked into the lobby from one of the connecting hallways. "What are you doing here?"

Gaara didn't answer for a second, surprised to see Naruto. "I'm here for my psychiatry appointment," he finally said, as Naruto dropped down into a seat beside him. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here. Because, you know," Naruto's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "everybody here thinks I'm crazy."

"You _live_ here?" Gaara had been vaguely aware of the general opinion that Naruto was considered insane, but he hadn't paid all that much thought to it, deeming it unimportant. He certainly hadn't expected to learn that Naruto actually lived in the asylum. He didn't like the thought much; somehow, it made Gaara's chances for ending up with a padded room of his own seem that much more likely.

"Yeah, pretty much. I got passed around in foster homes for a few years, but Kyuubi didn't care much for it," Naruto said. He shrugged it off. "Seven bitten foster parents and a rabies shot later, and here I am. At least until I'm eighteen, when I can finally check myself out of here for good. So, who are you here to see?"

"Dr. Iira," Gaara said.

Naruto winced in sympathy. "Sorry to hear it. Just a bit of advice; I wouldn't tell her anything if I were you. We're pretty sure she has no idea what she's talking about, and is at least as crazy as most of the mental patients she treats. But what do we know, anyway? She's the doctor; _we're_ the crazies. Nobody ever listens to us."

"Naruto Uzumaki!" the receptionist snapped over her desk at him. "You know you're not supposed to be loitering in the lobby during business hours."

"Oops," Naruto said, though he didn't sound like he meant it. He offered Gaara an apologetic grin. "Sorry, guess I gotta go. I'll see you at school, alright?"

"Wait a minute," Gaara said, making Naruto pause in mid-motion of getting up from his chair. "What's it like? Living here?"

"Not too bad, I guess," Naruto said. "Comfy padded walls, and ramen every Friday. And if the guy down the hall spends all night screaming at the gremlins in the light fixtures, sometimes the nurses sedate him." He waved a goodbye to Gaara, and wandered back down the hall he'd entered from.

Gaara watched him go, then transferred his gaze to Temari as she approached.

"Looks like we're going to have to reschedule," Temari said to Gaara. "Apparently there's an emergency with one of Dr. Iira's other patients, that she needs to attend to. We'll just have to come back next week, I guess…"

As much as Gaara disliked Dr. Iira, and how little he'd been looking forward to suffering through an hour of her company, he was well aware of what the consequences of waiting a week to talk to the psychiatrist would mean. After the disappearing act he'd pulled the night before, the only way he'd get the okay from his siblings to go to dinner with Neji that evening would be to get an okay from a higher authority.

"Is there anybody else I could talk to?" Gaara asked.

Temari looked startled by his question; she knew very well how much he disliked going to his psychiatry appointments. After a half-second of blank staring, Temari turned helplessly to the receptionist, looking to her for an answer. "_Is_ there anyone else available?"

The receptionist flipped through her scheduling book. "We do have another psychologist with a free hour, if that's what you'd like. However, as he is not the primary therapist, he would be unable to look at Gaara's file without the consent of a parent or guardian, nor can he make changes to an existing medication regimen. He may suggest changes in treatment with Dr. Iira, though any actual conversation will be kept confidential, unless there is mention of suicide or intention to harm others, of course. Would that be acceptable?"

"It's fine," Gaara said shortly. None of that mattered to him, of course. This new therapist could tell Dr. Iira that Gaara thought the moon was made of snot for all he cared, so long as he said Gaara could be allowed go out with Neji.

There were some forms he had to sign before he could talk to this new psychiatrist; Gaara had learned long ago, in this business, there was paperwork for _everything._ But at last, he was escorted down one of the asylum's bland and boring hallways, and allowed through one of many identical doors, its only distinguishing feature a small nameplate that read, "Dr. Haku, Psy.D."

The room itself was like all the other psychiatrists' offices that Gaara had ever been too. It had light beige walls, a window covered with white blinds, a couch for the patient and a chair for the doctor, and an ugly fake plant that took up most of one corner. Gaara had seen this setup so many times, he had started to believe it was mandatory for therapy offices. He had been expecting this Dr. Haku to look like all the other old, bland and boring psychologists he'd been to see, as well.

But in that, he was wrong. Seated in the standard chair was a young woman. Her facial features were soft, and hinted at a gentle femininity. Her eyes were doe brown; kind and innocent eyes, watchful and unassuming. She wore her dark hair long. Their clothing gave no hint to the gender it concealed, but in Gaara's experience, few female psychiatrists he'd seen wore clothing to obviously call attention to their womanly attributes, as it tended to bring the wrong sort of attention from their patients.

Dr. Haku stood to greet Gaara when he came in. "Hello, you must be Gaara," she said. Her voice was soft and pleasant, but not overtly girly. "I was told you had need to speak with someone while your regular psychiatrist was indisposed. Would you like to have a seat?" She gestured to the empty couch, returning to her own seat as well.

Gaara sat, though he wasn't expecting this to take too long. He didn't say anything at first, however, as he wasn't quite sure how to go about gaining the favor he was after. Somehow, he would have to convince Dr. Haku that he was not only not crazy, or at least not a danger to others, and then get her to tell that to Temari in a way that would convince his sister.

"Now, before we begin, I would like to remind you that nothing you say to me will be going into your file," Dr. Haku said. "No one will be told about anything said in this room, not even Dr. Iira, unless of course-"

"Unless I say something about trying to kill myself or someone else," Gaara finished crossly. "I know the rules."

Dr. Haku offered a serenely amused smile. "As you say. I imagine you've seen many psychiatrists and therapists in the course of your lifetime, and I wouldn't need to tell you how the system works, would I?"

"Are you guessing?"

"I don't know for sure, if that's what you're asking," she replied easily. "I haven't been allowed to read your file, and so I don't know anything about you."

"Nothing in that file is true, anyway," Gaara said. "Reading it still wouldn't get you any closer to knowing anything about me."

"I see," Dr. Haku said patiently. "Well then, why don't you begin by telling me something about yourself?"

Gaara started to do exactly that, then closed his mouth so quickly his teeth clicked, before uttering a single word. It had been so long since he'd told any of his psychiatrists anything, that he had almost forgotten what would follow when he did. At the first mention of demons or past lives, and he would be instantly labeled insane. This Dr. Haku wasn't allowed to prescribe him any more medications, but she'd probably not help him if he gave any indication of mental instability. "I don't want to," he finally said.

Her tranquil expression never wavered. "Alright then. But I do suppose you are here because you wanted to tell me something. Though I'm happy to sit here in silence with you, if that's what you prefer."

Gaara shifted a little on the somewhat uncomfortable, ugly couch, wondering at the best way to approach this. "If I asked you to tell my sister something, would you?"

"It would depend on what the something is," Dr. Haku said with frank honestly. "And you know, most patients prefer I _not_ tell their families anything about what is said in here."

"Doctor-patient confidentiality can be broken if I give my permission for it," Gaara said.

She smiled. "You do know the system well. All right then, would you like to tell me what it is you think I should say to her?"

"I want you to tell her…" Gaara paused, thinking a moment. "Tell her that you think I can be permitted to go out to dinner tonight with my friend. That I wouldn't be a danger to myself or to others."

"You know if I were to say something like that to her, if something unfortunate were then to happen, I would be the one to blame," she said softly. "I'm afraid I would have to know you quite a bit better before I could endorse such reckless behavior."

"I'm not going to hurt anyone," Gaara said tightly. "I just want a chance to go to dinner with Neji without everyone making a federal case about it. Temari and Kankuro act like I'd sooner stab someone as look at them."

"_And they wouldn't be too far wrong,"_ Shukaku said with a chuckle. _"Soon as I get your hands on a knife, the blood is gonna fly." _

"_Really not helping my case any, Shukaku,"_ he informed the demon. Gaara was just glad he was the only one who could hear it.

"I'll tell you what," Dr. Haku said gently. "We have little more than an hour before my next patient's appointment. If you talk to me, tell me a little about yourself and answer some of my questions, I will consider talking to your sister about this matter. Do we have a deal?"

Gaara really didn't have much to lose, since Dr. Haku couldn't issue him any new prescriptions, or even tell Dr. Iira anything about this conversation. He acquiesced slowly. "Alright. What do you want to know?"

"Well first of all," she said with a smile, "how about telling me how long you've been off your medication?"

Gaara stared at her. "How did you know I was?"

She smiled at his surprise. "Lucky guess. It was either that you were not on your medication, or that the medications do not do anything for your particular situation. A moment ago, you got the same look on your face as another young man of my acquaintance, when he happens to be talking to the friend in his head."

"Oh… Naruto, huh?" He'd forgotten than the psychologists here probably had ample experience dealing with Naruto and Kyuubi, and that some might recognize similarities between their conditions.

"You are friends with Naruto?" Dr. Haku asked.

"Sort of," Gaara said. "We have… a few things in common, I guess."

"I see. So, what's your demon's name?"

Apparently Naruto didn't hold the same don't-talk-to-psychiatrists principle as Gaara did. "Shukaku," he said.

"Shukaku," Dr. Haku said, as though testing the name out. "Interesting. Good name for a demon. Tell me some things about them. How long has he been with you? What is he like?"

"He's always been there. As far back as I can remember…" Gaara said. "I used to think he was a delusion, kind of a figment of my imagination, but I couldn't make him go away. He was always telling me to do things… he'd want me to hurt people, and he'd keep on about it, over and over, until my head filled with hate and pain and I'd… give in."

"Does he still make you hurt people?" Dr. Haku wanted to know.

"He still tries. I hurt someone in the last place we lived, and that's why we moved here," Gaara admitted. "Since we've been here, there've been some… distractions, and he hasn't pushed it too much, yet." Gaara almost winced, realizing this probably wasn't making the point he'd been hoping for. If he were Dr. Haku, he'd probably tell Temari to have Gaara fitted for a straitjacket, rather than let him go out on his own.

"But if he were to push it," said Dr. Haku. "If he wanted you to hurt someone right now, and insisted upon it, would you have to do as he says?"

"Maybe not at first," Gaara said. "I can resist him for months at a time, before it becomes too much. There's always a breaking point, always a point when I'll do anything just to make him stop it for a little while. Then we move, and it starts over again."

"Why does he want you to hurt people?"

Gaara stared at her. Why? He didn't know why Shukaku wanted Gaara to hurt people. That's just the way it had always been, the way he had assumed it would always be. The demon was violent and hateful. "Because he… likes to. He thinks it's funny. What does it matter what his reasons are?"

"It's just something I thought you might like to think about," Dr. Haku said. "Of course, I am nowhere near any kind of expert on demons. My area of expertise is on human nature. Maybe it is enough for demons that they find it funny; that could be all the justification they need. There are rare cases of humans that do the same thing, hurting people for the sheer joy of it, without shame or guilt for causing suffering. They cannot feel compassion, love or empathy. They're known as sociopaths.

"However," the doctor continued, "sociopathic disorders are rare. Among humans, at any rate. Far more common, even when a person is showing characteristics of a sociopath, it actually stems from a different kind of disorder, usually a past trauma that they're covering up."

Gaara almost smiled. "I'm pretty sure Shukaku wasn't molested as a child, if that's what you're suggesting."

She just smiled in that serene way of hers. "You of course would know your demon better than I, so it must be as you say. But there are all kinds of reasons for people to do the things they do, even reasons that don't make any sense whatsoever. It's just something you might like to consider. In my line of work, we try to uncover the hidden reasons that motivate our actions."

Gaara was skeptical. _"How about it, Shukaku? What's the hidden reasoning behind your desire to maim people?"_

"_Blood is yummy."_

"…_that's what I thought."_

"So, you've told me what your demon enjoys doing," Dr, Haku moved on to the next subject. "What about you? What do you usually do with your free time?"

"Ignore Shukaku."

"Surely there must be more to your life than ignoring a demon."

Gaara shrugged. "Not really. He tells me to do something, I ignore him until I can't anymore. Not much more to it than that."

"You said you had friends. You wanted to go to dinner with one of them tonight. Neji, wasn't it? What's he like?"

"Neji is…" Gaara smiled faintly without realizing he was. "Neji is everything to me. He's beautiful and proud, and he's got this sort of… understated elegance. He's very logical, and he always knows what to say. I feel like I've waited my whole life just to meet him." Gaara suddenly realized what it was he'd just admitted. "That probably sounds stupid, huh?"

"I don't think so," Dr. Haku said. For the briefest moment, she showed a hint of emotion, a touch of sad wistfulness to her serene smile. "Sometimes two people are just meant to find one another, waiting only until that time fate brings them together. And some people spend their whole lives waiting." She looked as though she might say something more, but there was a small little chime sound from the clock on the wall.

"I'm afraid that's all we have time for today," Dr. Haku said, standing. "Next week you'll be back to talking with your regular psychiatrist. But perhaps you and I will have a chance to talk again some day. I'd be curious to know if you ever discover the reasons behind your demons actions. And whether or not your dinner date with Neji goes well tonight."

Gaara blinked at her. "You'll talk to Temari, then?"

"Yes, I do believe there are one or two insights I could share with your sister, with your permission," Dr. Haku said. She moved to the door and opened it, allowing Gaara to precede her out and down the hall to the waiting room.

Temari and Kankuro looked up from the card game they were playing on the chair between them when Gaara and the doctor walked out.

Dr. Haku smiled at Temari and Kankuro. "Would the two of you kindly follow me for a moment? There are a few things I would like to talk to you about before you are on your way."

A little mystified, Gaara's siblings both glanced at him, before following the doctor back down the hallway to the privacy of her office. Gaara stood in the lobby for a moment, equally bewildered. He hadn't thought he'd made such a good case for his relative sanity, that Dr. Haku would actually speak to his siblings on his behalf. Then again, he had no idea what she was _actually_ telling them in there. He might be minutes away from enjoying a private, padded cell.

"psst!" A hissed noise from another hall caught Gaara's attention. When he turned toward the sound, he saw Naruto peeking into the lobby. The blonde boy grinned at him, gesturing for him to come over.

"So how'd it go?" Naruto asked the moment Gaara walked over to him. "What new strain of psychopathic schizophrenic brain chemical imbalance does Dr. Iira think you've got this week? I'll bet whatever it is, it's hard to pronounce."

"Dr. Iira wasn't there today," Gaara said. "I talked to Dr. Haku."

"Oh yeah?" Naruto asked. "I like Dr. Haku. It's nice to know at least somebody around here knows what they're talking about."

Gaara nodded a little absently. "I told her about Shukaku. I don't know if she believed me or not, but she seemed interested, and she didn't act like I was crazy-" He trailed off when he caught the look on Naruto's face, like he was desperately trying to hold in laughter. "What's the matter with you?"

"Gaara," Naruto gave up the fight to hold in his mirth. "Dr. Haku's a _boy._"


	14. Chemical Imbalance

Naruto usually hated weekends at the asylum. It was always so damn boring to be cooped up inside its unbearably sterile walls. By Sunday night, he was usually longing desperately for the promise of Monday and the routine to school, usually the only time he was allowed out of the medical prison to actually get some fresh air. Summer vacation was no less than torture. Some years, during those three months off from school, he felt as though he really might go crazy, and live up to his reputation.

Of course, now that he was older and no longer deemed to be an immediate danger to society, he was occasionally allowed out on the weekend, for a brief period, to see a movie or visit the mall (usually the mall's foodcourt). But to gain every reprieve, he had to fill out a request form at least a week in advance, about where he planned to go, how long he expected to be there, and who if anyone he planned to go with. This form had to be filed with the asylum's main office, and signed off on by both the asylum director and one of the psychiatrists that regularly treated Naruto. Though Naruto could usually get Dr. Haku to sign off on the form, it was usually harder to get the asylum's director to endorse it.

"_I don't think she's forgiven you for that stink-bomb-whoopie-cushion you planted in her office chair five years ago,"_ Kyuubi said.

"_And I still say it was worth it,"_ Naruto replied. _"She smelled like rotten fish for a week. All the stray cats in the neighborhood followed her to work in the morning."_

The director had denied his request to go out and see a movie this weekend, pending further investigation into a fight that had occurred earlier that week in group therapy.

"_A fight that was totally your fault," _Naruto pointed out to Kyuubi.

"_Kiba called me a fleabag,"_ the demon said calmly. _"So you see, I _had_ to bite him. And he's not one to talk, anyway. I've seen the way he scratches himself when he thinks no one's looking. He's probably infested."_

"_Or maybe he caught an STD the last time he ran away from here. At any rate, don't go biting him again. I don't know where he's been, and I don't want to end up with unidentifiably-itch-syndrome just because you needed to prove a point."_

Still, he was kind of glad he hadn't gone out to see that movie. He'd gotten to see Gaara, if only for a little bit before he left with his siblings. It was a shame they hadn't gotten to talk more, to alleviate Naruto's boredom for a few minutes, but he was determined to be happy with what he could get for the time being. He hadn't thought of it much before, but now he wondered if he'd actually be able to have his new friends come visit him in the asylum. There were visiting hours of course, but really the Crazy House wasn't the best venue for social calls. Still, just having friends gave him the possibility of not having to spend his every weekend bored and alone.

"_Not that you're ever really _alone_," _Kyuubi said, a little tartly.

"_I know that,"_ Naruto said. _"But you've got to admit, it's kind of been fun hanging out with Gaara, even Neji and Sasuke sometimes. Sometimes it's worth it to have a couple human friends, you know?"_

"_If you say so,"_ the demon replied loftily.

After Gaara had left after his appointment, Naruto wandered through the open wards of the asylum. If he'd wanted, he could have gone to watch the ping-pong tournament that was most assuredly in progress in the game room. Or, if he preferred, availed himself of one of the many safe-for-psychos crafts available in the art room. The music room was definitely out, though. There was always somebody at the piano, mindlessly played the same three half-memorized songs with such interminable repetition, it ought to be considered cruel and unusual punishment.

But he'd long ago gotten bored with the few permitted activities around the asylum. And so he wandered aimlessly down the veritable maze of hallways, listening to the muted sounds of madness all around him.

He did stop in the cafeteria, to snatch on of the snacks they usually offered on weekends. He was just leaving, chewing on his granola bar, when one of the nurses from one of the upper wings came in, almost running into him. She looked relieved to see him, as she tucked back a few flyaway strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail.

"Oh Naruto, I've been looking for you," she said. "Your friend upstairs just came out of one of his fits. The head nurse was wondering if you could go in and talk to him? If you're not too busy?"

They always asked him if he wasn't too busy, as if he had anything better to do. Besides, he welcomed the chance to run upstairs and talk to his friend. If "friend" indeed was the correct term, as Naruto hadn't actually been allowed in to see him in almost four months now. But, he supposed, he was probably the closest thing to a friend that Kakashi had.

Kakashi was, as far as Naruto knew, the only person who had been in the asylum longer than he had. Kakashi had been diagnosed as a danger to himself when he was two, and had attempted to gouge out one of his own eyes, crying that it was showing him terrible things. His parents had dropped him off on the steps on the asylum, and had never returned.

Since then, Kakashi had become something of an infamous loner. It took several years before he would even tolerate the presence of others, but even then, he never showed much desire to interact with them. He attended group therapy when he was forced to, putting on a fake smile and deflecting questions with glib remarks, escaping to the solitude of his private cell the moment he got the chance to. And once safe in his own miniature sanctuary, he would have fits, falling into strange trances that would last for hours, sometimes days. After resurfacing from one of these fits, he'd refuse to talk to any of his therapists about it. Not that he said much to them in the first place. No one could figure out what caused the fits, as there didn't seem to be any kind of medical cause for such a thing. The only thing the doctors could figure was that the cause was deeply rooted psychological trauma.

Naruto met Kakashi during one of their group therapy sessions. Kakashi was only four years older than Naruto, but most of the time, he seemed much older than that. Naruto had initially become interested in Kakashi because Kyuubi had said that it recognized the older boy, from the time before. That, and there were rumors circulating among the other patients that when Kakashi went into one of his fits, he was actually having psychic visions.

"_I don't know about 'psychic',"_ Kyuubi had said at the time. _"But I'm willing to bet that if he is having visions, they're memories. It's no wonder he spends so much time in these fits of his. He probably prefers living in his past life to living in this one."_

"_I don't know," _Naruto had replied. _"He's always gets depressed right after coming out of it. If it is a past life he's seeing, I don't think it's a good one."_

"_How do you know that he gets depressed?"_ Kyuubi demanded. _"He's always smiling." _

"_The smile's fake, Kyuubi," _Naruto had replied. _"I think he just pretends to be okay so nobody bugs him about whatever's wrong." _

"_Ohh," _the demon replied in understanding. _"So, you plan to bug him about whatever's wrong then, don't you?"_

"_Exactly." _

And Naruto had. Not that Kakashi had been any more willing to tell Naruto about it than any of his psychiatrists. Kakashi was exceptionally good at avoiding talking about things he didn't want to. Even managed to avoid Naruto himself for months on end, except when they had group therapy together. Naruto never did figure out how Kakashi seemed to just _disappear _the way he did right after therapy was over. All it took was for Naruto's attention to waver for the briefest second, and Kakashi would be gone.

But Naruto was nothing if not persistent. The asylum simply wasn't big enough for Kakashi to hide from Naruto forever. And eventually Kakashi learned there wasn't much point in trying, because Naruto wasn't going to take the hint and leave him alone. So one day after group therapy, Kakashi didn't disappear immediately as was his wont, but waited for Naruto to catch up, and let Naruto walk with him back up to his room on one of the upper floors. He didn't say anything to Naruto on the trip there, and closed the door in his face once they'd arrived. But Naruto took it as encouragement.

From that day on, Naruto and Kakashi would usually share the walk back to Kakashi's room. For the first few months, Naruto did all the talking on these trips, sharing all the information he had about Kyuubi and the few memories the demon had recovered. One day, Naruto said how he hoped to one day recover memories of his own past life.

"No," Kakashi had said, the first time he'd actually spoken directly to Naruto, "you really don't."

The mask was still in place, and Kakashi still hid behind the fake smile and easy, arrogant attitude. He still wouldn't tell Naruto anything about what he saw during one of his fits. But Naruto did pick up little hints here and there. He learned to spot when the mask was slipping, and press the advantage. Not that he got much for his efforts, but enough to keep him from giving up. One day, he was determined to find out what was wrong with Kakashi, and help him with it.

In the meantime, Kakashi's little fits became longer and more frequent, and he didn't show up to group therapy quite as often. But the asylum staff had seen the two boys walking together, and come to the conclusion that they were friends. And so whenever Kakashi came out of one of his fits, Naruto was invited to come and see him. The asylum psychiatrists thought it would be good for Kakashi to have someone he trusted to talk with after surfacing from the strange trances he fell into.

"_Not that he ever really tells you anything,"_ Kyuubi pointed out. _"Except when he recites passages from that one series of books he likes. I wonder if he read those in this life or the last one?"_

"_It's gotta be the last one,"_ Naruto said. _"You know the asylum's got a strict policy against porn of any kind."_

"_Those books aren't porn,"_ Kyuubi insisted. _"They're art. Written by a master of storytelling, a veritable poet, with a vast knowledge of the human psyche."_

"_I didn't realize the human psyche was so focused girls' boobs."_

"_For a human, you know remarkably little about your own species," _said the demon. _"As an observer of the human race, it has been my understanding that everything in your culture either has to do with boobs, or the bits between your legs. Usually both."_

"_That's not _all_ we think about."_

"_Then explain to me that magazine you have stashed under your bed, despite the asylum's strict policy against porn of any kind."_

"_It's not porn,"_ Naruto said. _"It's art."_

"_You know, I don't think it's fair of you to turn my own logic against me,"_ Kyuubi said.

"_Come on, just allow it this once,"_ Naruto said, as he climbed up the stairs. _"It's not often that I can even understand your logic enough to turn it back on you."_

The two bickered on like that all the way to Kakashi's room. Naruto knew the way so well by this point that he could navigate it with his eyes closed. Of course, he could do the same with the rest of the asylum too, so often had he wandered down its many corridors.

A nurse was waiting for him outside Kakashi's room, and she knocked lightly on the door once Naruto had arrived. There was no response from inside, but she slid her keycard through its designated slot, opened the door and let Naruto inside.

Kakashi was sitting up in bed, turned toward the window. Naruto usually found him that way when he came to visit. Some of Kakashi's fits lasted for months at a time, as this last one had, and Kakashi usually liked to check what season it was upon waking up. If his fits continued to increase in duration, Naruto thought, at some point Kakashi would have to check what _year_ it was upon resurfacing.

Kakashi's hair had gotten longer since the last time Naruto had visited. It was still the same shade of silvery-white, one of the main factors in giving Kakashi an impression of being older than he was. One of his eyes was always covered, due to the injury he'd caused it as a child when he'd tried to remove it. Supposedly, Kakashi could still see perfectly well through that eye, but he said it was sensitive to light, and preferred to keep it covered. Or rather, insisted upon it, with enough vehemence that he was allowed to do as he liked.

"So they finally sent you up here to check on me," Kakashi said as Naruto stepped into the room. He turned away from the window, offering Naruto that same mild, fake smile that he gave to everyone. "Well as you can see, I remain in one piece, so there's no need for you to stay."

"What did you see?" Naruto asked, taking a seat in the ever-present uncomfortable hospital chair by the bedside. "Anything good this time?"

"See?" Kakashi asked placidly. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. How long was I out this time?"

"Four months," Naruto said. "So either your memories were really good, or really bad. You go under for longer periods every time."

"It does appear so," Kakashi said noncommittally.

Naruto gave him a few seconds to add anything, and when Kakashi said nothing more, prompted eagerly, "So? Are you going to tell me what you saw?"

"Naruto, do I _ever_ tell you what I saw?"

"No, you don't," Naruto said. "Which is really annoying, by the way. You'd think after all this time you'd at least give me some kind of hint-"

"I didn't see anything, Naruto."

Naruto wanted to argue, because he _knew_ Kakashi had. And whatever it is Kakashi saw when he had his fits, it was slowly eating away at him inside. Naruto was afraid that one of these days, Kakashi would go into one of his trances, and just never wake up again. He didn't know what he could do for his friend, but he was sure there must be something. But first, Kakashi would have to tell him what he saw.

And Kakashi was never going to.

So Naruto did what he usually did when Kakashi wouldn't say anything; talk. "I met some new friends at school this week. Well, one of them's a friend; I don't think the other two like me much. There's Gaara; he's the one that's a friend, and there's Neji and Sasuke, and they still look at me like I'm crazy, but Gaara likes them so I guess they're okay. But the great thing is, Gaara's like me."

"Crazy?"

"No, everybody just thinks he is," Naruto corrected. "He's got a demon, just like me! Kyuubi says that Shukaku's kind of a jerk though, but Gaara's pretty nice, now that he's not threatening to kill me. But the best part is, Gaara got this book about ninjas from his teacher, and I actually kind of recognized some things in it, from the time before. Gaara, Neji and Sasuke were all in the time before too. Sasuke's got this eye trick called sharingan, and it-"

"_What?"_ Kakashi said sharply, startling Naruto out of his babbling. When Naruto just stared at him instead of answering the apparent question, Kakashi clarified, "What did you say it was called?"

"Sharingan," Naruto said. "Orochimaru-sensei said it was kind of a hypnosis trick. When Sasuke used it on Gaara and Neji, it brought out some of their memories from their past life." Naruto frowned. "Didn't seem to work on me, though."

"The sharingan can do much more than that," Kakashi said wearily. "It's dangerous, and your friend Sasuke shouldn't be playing around with it like that. None of you should. And as for this Orochimaru-sensei…" Kakashi frowned, then shook his head, as though changing his mind as to what he was going to say. "Just be careful."

"Yeah, sure," Naruto promised, a little wonderingly. "How do you know about the sharingan?"

"Never mind," Kakashi said. "I think visiting hours are over, Naruto."

"Are you kidding? It's Saturday. Visiting hours don't end until almost dinnertime."

"Still, I think it would be best for you to leave now," Kakashi said. When it looked like Naruto was bound to argue, Kakashi added. "I'm tired."

Naruto didn't seem convinced, but accepted it in the end. "Alright. But I'll be back to see you tomorrow, so don't have another fit tonight, okay?"

Kakashi's smile wasn't the least bit convincing. "We'll see."

That was the same thing Kakashi always said, and Naruto knew from experience that it was pointless to ask for more than that. Kakashi couldn't predict when the fits would occur, and he couldn't stop them when they did. Tomorrow, either Kakashi would be his usual, evasive self, or he'd have fallen into his next trance, which could last for another four months.

So, even though he hadn't said nearly all he wanted to say, nor gotten any of the answers he'd come to pry out of his friend, Naruto stood and let himself out. The nurse out in the hall thanked him, and stepped into Kakashi's room to check on the patient.

Naruto walked down the hallway to the stairs slowly, thinking about what Kakashi had said, and what he hadn't. One of these days, Naruto _would_ get Kakashi to tell him what he saw when he was in his fits. But there was no doubt in Naruto's mind now that whatever it was, had to do with Kakashi's past life. He'd known what the sharingan was, after all. He might know even more about it than Sasuke or Orochimaru-sensei. Kakashi had said that the sharingan was dangerous, and Orochimaru-sensei hadn't said anything about that… Naruto couldn't wait until Monday, when he could tell Sasuke all about this.

He wished he could have gotten Kakashi to say more about _why_ the sharingan was dangerous. Maybe it would explain why it hadn't seemed to work on Naruto. The one time he'd tried it, he _thought_ he'd felt something, sort of a shifting of reality, his mind slipping from the present life into the memories of the past. But he hadn't _seen_ anything. Not like Gaara and Neji had.

"_It's weird, isn't it Kyuubi?"_ Naruto asked the demon, as he wandered down the stairs. _"You'd think that if I went into the weird trance-thing like the other two, I would have seen something. Gaara and Neji got memories, and I don't get squat." _

"_Mmm, yeah," _Kyuubi hedged. _"Definitely weird."_

Naruto paused in his descent down the stairs, piqued by the uneasiness in Kyuubi's tone. _"Kyuubi? You wouldn't happen to know _why_ Sasuke's sharingan didn't work on me, would you?"_

"_Why Naruto, I'm offended! Have you so little faith in me? So little trust, that you would believe that I would keep such a secret from you? Has our lifetime of friendship come to so little, that you would ask me such a thing?" _the demon said.

"_You do know, and you didn't tell me!" _Naruto accused.

"…_well, yeah,"_ Kyuubi said. _"But you still weren't supposed to ask." _

"_Kyuubi! You know I've waited forever to remember something, anything, from my past life. Finally I get a chance to with Sasuke's sharingan, and it doesn't even work! I think I at least deserve to know why!"_

Kyuubi let out a sigh. _"It_ did _work, Naruto."_

"_But I didn't see anything."_

"_You didn't see anything because I hid the memory from you,"_ the demon said. _"So far, everything Sasuke's sharingan has shown people has hurt them. It drove his own brother to suicide. When you decided to try it anyway, I decided I'd have to… pre-screen your memory before I let you see it. To protect you, in case it was something you couldn't handle."_

"_You had no right to hide my own memories from me!" _Naruto said. _"You're not parental control, and I don't need you to protect me. Give them back!" _

"_Okay, alright!" _Kyuubi conceded. _"But not here. If they find you passed out on the staircase, they'll think Kakashi's fits are contagious." _

Naruto stomped the rest of the way down the stairs, taking the most direct route to his own room. He gained some pretty odd look from the nurses and some of the other patients as he rushed by them, but Naruto hardly spared them a thought. Kyuubi had one of Naruto's memories, and at long last Naruto was going to get to see it.

He slid his keycard through its slot to unlock the door, and once inside, leaned against the padded wall. _"Alright. Gimme."_

"_You sure you want to see this?"_ Kyuubi asked plaintively. _"I mean, you might want to wait a while. You could hold out for some nicer memories to surface, you don't really have to have this one. You'd hardly even miss it-"_

"Kyuubi!" Naruto interrupted the demon. "My memory. Right now."

"_Fine,"_ Kyuubi muttered. _"Here goes…"_

_­.x.x.x._

The desert surrounding Suna was a terrible place to hold a siege, in Naruto's opinion. It was hot all the time, except at night, when the temperature dropped to a freezing range. There was nothing to see by way of landscape except sand in all directions, and the shimmering silvery mirages that tempted the onlooker with the false promise of water. That same sand got into everything; clothes, hair, and food, making life miserable. Tedium hung over the camp like a pall.

Naruto trekked through the camp toward the tent he'd been given. He'd spent almost a month here, trying to convince the various leaders of allied countries to end the quarantine they'd set on Suna. So far, none of them were willing to listen to him. The plague had them all scared, terrified that it would spread to outlying countries, and nothing Naruto said eased their fears the tiniest bit. It was all he could do to keep them from burning Sunagakure out of existence.

Especially now that the plague had started leaking out of Suna, striking down the soldiers holding the quarantine. It struck suddenly, without warning; the minute someone got the shakes, they were "disposed" of. Paranoia was as rampant as any disease.

Naruto's white tent was identical to the others in the camp, all of them sitting in neat rows like a makeshift village of their own. Only the orange jacket hanging out front, its color fading from prolonged exposure to the sun, distinguished it from the rest. Upon reaching his tent, he pulled back the flap and slipped inside, plopping down on the nearest seat.

The other two occupants of the tent looked up when he entered. Sakura was sorting through her medical supplies for the tenth time that day. After the second or third time, Naruto was sure they couldn't even _get_ any more organized, but Sakura seemed to take some kind of comfort from the repetition of going through them. Shikamaru was sitting in his usual seat, studying the game board he'd set up. He was playing against himself, and from the annoyed look on his face, Naruto didn't think he was winning. Shikamaru took a long drink from his water bottle, before moving another piece on the board.

"Suna's quiet today," Naruto said, for the sake of saying something.

"Of course it is," Shikamaru said. "They've got the plague; they're not having a party."

"I'm just sayin'," Naruto muttered. "Do you think anybody's still alive in there?"

"Since nobody will let me in there to examine the infected, I couldn't tell you," Sakura said tightly. She was really taking this hard; so many people suffering, and nothing she could do about it. She gathered up her supplies, and started sorting them an eleventh time.

Shikamaru took another long drink out of his water bottle, scowling at it when at last it was emptied. He tossed it carelessly to the side, then reached to move another piece on the game board. His hand shook as he did, knocking some of the pieces out of position.

Sakura frowned, reaching to retrieve a piece that had toppled off the edge of the game board. "Shikamaru… your hands have been shaking for a few days now. And you're… kind of pale."

Naruto nodded, worry creeping over him. "And you've been drinking a lot more water lately."

"It's the heat," Shikamaru said, frowning at the board. "Dehydration will do that to a person."

"It looks more like plague symptoms to me," Sakura said. "Maybe I ought to-" She cut off with a startled squeak, as a big gray rat scuttled out of the corner and scurried past her. "Oh, yuck!"

Naruto grabbed up Shikamaru's discarded water bottle and tossed it after the rodent, narrowly missing the little critter, which slipped under the fabric of the tent to freedom.

Shikamaru looked up briefly from his game to watch the distraction caused by the rat, then shook his head and returned his gaze to the board, answering Sakura as he did so. "It's not the plague. It's heat exhaustion. We've been in this damned desert for a month, and it's effecting everyone." He moved another piece on the board. This time his hand's shaking was undeniable.

"Don't be so stubborn, Shikamaru," Sakura insisted. "If you just let me take a look at you, I might be able to help. At least ease the symptoms."

As Sakura and Shikamaru argued, there was a rustling of the tent fabric as the gray rat peeked back inside. It caught Naruto watching it, but when the human made no move to stop it, the rat scampered toward the water bottle, furtively licking up the little remaining water that leaked out of it.

"Give it a rest, Sakura," Shikamaru said, a weary note to his voice. "Even if I had the plague- and I'm not saying I do- there wouldn't be anything you could do about it. You said yourself; this is unlike anything you've seen before."

"I could at least try!" Sakura insisted stubbornly.

A series of squeaky shriekings captured their attention and ended their argument. The big gray rat was thrashing on the floor, clawing and biting at itself, ripping away fur and flesh from its body. The three humans stared in stunned disbelief at its frantic gyrating. The frenetic seizure was too much for the rodent's body to handle, and just as its frenzy reached its peak, its little heart burst inside it, and at last it was still.

"Damn," Naruto breathed. He grabbed the water bottle, sniffing at its contents. It didn't have a discernable odor. "What was in this thing, anyway?"

"Just water," Shikamaru said. "Got it from the well this morning."

"Well water?" Sakura asked, taking the water bottle from Naruto and similarly taking a whiff. "You haven't been drinking the water rations we brought with us?"

"They've been running low," Shikamaru said. "The camp's been siphoning water out of Suna's main well to supplement dwindling supplies."

"How long have you been drinking from the well?" Sakura asked. She had an odd look on her face.

He shrugged. "A couple of days, I guess. Why?"

Sakura stared at the bottle in her hands. "It's in the water."

"What is?" Naruto asked.

She looked up at him, her eyes bright, as though fevered, lit with the excitement of sudden discovery. "It's not a plague. It's _poison._"

"Who's poisoned?" Naruto demanded. "What are you talking about?"

"Suna is a desert village," Shikamaru said. "And one thing a desert village would be absolutely dependant on is its water supply. And if that water were poisoned…"

"The whole village would be wiped out," Sakura said. "And some of the soldiers have been drinking water taken from Suna's well. That's how they ended up with the "plague" symptoms."

"But who would want to poison the whole village of Suna?" Naruto said. "How'd they even manage it without getting caught? If water is so important here, it would be well guarded."

"They're ninjas," Sakura said. "Getting into places they're not supposed to be is part of the job description."

"Do you think you can work up some kind of an antidote for it?" Shikamaru asked.

"I think so, if I get another sample of the water," Sakura said, standing up with a purposeful look. Finally, she'd found something she could do to help. "I don't know what kind of poison this _is,_ but it's ingenious. Odorless, tasteless, and lethal." She grabbed up her supplies and headed out, calling back over her shoulder. "I'll get them to shut down the siphon well, too. We won't have any more people poisoned in this camp. You should stay here, Shikamaru, at least until I can work up a sort of antidote."

"Told you I didn't have the plague," Shikamaru muttered.

"Poison isn't a much better option."

Naruto leapt to his feet as well. "I'm going to go tell Gaara."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Shikamaru said. "Going to see Gaara, I mean. If he's been exposed to this poison too, there's no telling what kind of state he'll be in right now."

"If there's anyone left alive and sane in that village," Naruto said with utter conviction, "it'll be Gaara." He took off running from the shelter, racing past identical rows of little white tents.

Past the camp were the soldiers, patrolling the borders of Sunagakure from what they considered a safe distance. It was their duty to act as the last line of defense, the only protection between the rest of the world and the plague that rampaged the ninja village. The lot of them held up formation, but it was obvious they were flagging after so long upholding the quarantine. Their once smart marches were reduced to weary trudging through the soft sands. Clothes were stained with sweat and sand, and eyes were red with exhaustion.

A group of them stopped to watch with mild curiosity as Naruto ran from the camp toward them. A few of them dug through their supplies for their water bottles, raising them to their lips for a drink.

"Stop it!" Naruto yelled at them as he barreled down one of the sand slopes toward them. "Don't drink the water!" When he was close enough, he knocked the water bottles away from the nearest soldiers, the liquid contents spilling across the sand.

"What the hell are you doing?" one of the soldiers demanded, grumpily picking up his spilled bottle and looking mournfully at its emptiness.

"It's the water," Naruto said. "All of Suna's water is poisoned. I have to tell the Kazekage!"

"You can't go in there," the same soldier said. "What part of 'under quarantine' don't you understand?"

"Aren't you listening? It's not a plague!" Naruto shouted at him. "It's poison, and they don't know. If I don't tell the Kazekage, they'll keep drinking the water until everyone in that village is dead!"

"Are you sure about this?" asked one of the soldiers suspiciously. "Nobody could poison an entire village."

"I don't have time for this! Let me through already!"

"Oh, let him in," one of the other soldiers said tiredly. "Maybe he's right. Maybe it is poison."

"Alright," said one, apparently leader. "We can let you in, but we can't let you out again until this whole poison theory is proven. And if it's _wrong_, you won't be getting out at all."

Naruto just nodded curtly and pushed his way passed the group of soldiers, running for the main entrance of Sunagakure. There seemed to be only a smattering of Suna guards around the perimeter of the village, and none of them tried to impede Naruto's entrance. Perhaps they were all just too tired to put up the fight.

The village stank of sickness and death. Intermitted pyres burned here and there in the streets, cremating the bodies of the dead to prevent further spread of plague. The few villagers Naruto saw that yet lived looked like death; wan and listless, trudging down the streets seemingly without a destination, most of them not even glancing at Naruto as he ran past and called his warnings to not drink the water. Garbage and debris was scattered everywhere without a care. Sunagakure was on the verge of becoming a ghost town.

Naruto kept running, and tried not to let the destruction of a once powerful ninja village get to him. He had to get to Gaara. He had to tell him about the poisoned water. If anyone could bring Suna back from the sad depths to which it had fallen, it would be the Kazekage. Gaara would fix this.

Naruto ran down the streets to the home of the Kazekage. It too was in sad shape, and there were piles of rubble blocking most of the entrances, as though someone was trying to keep something out, or something in. Naruto shoved away enough of the debris away from the main entrance to gain access, running into the gloom of the building. The rooms were empty of signs of life. Garbage and rubbish littered the floors. Naruto checked every room on the first floor, then ran up the stairs to the second, calling out for his friends.

"Gaara? Neji? Where are you?" Naruto yelled as he avoided a pile of debris on the floor. This place was like a war zone. "Damn it, somebody answer me!"

The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar, and Naruto pushed it open and ran inside. And came to an abrupt halt.

The bed was soaked with blood. The two lay in an awkward embrace in death, corpse pale, tears long dried on their faces. Their frozen expressions bore no hint of pain, only the last vestiges of a deep sadness. Their eyes were open and glassy, staring at nothing. Naruto couldn't look away. Over and over, his mind tried to deny what his eyes were seeing. Neji and Gaara. Dead.

"They killed them." Naruto's voice sounded strange to his own ears, choked and forced. "They _killed them!" _Rage hit sudden and hard, raising his chakra to a rapid and roiling boil.

"_You've got to calm down!"_ Kyuubi's voice was barely heard over the roaring of fury in his mind. _"Naruto, don't do this! NARUTO!"_

And then, all the world went dark.


	15. Murphy's Law

Temari didn't talk much on the way home from the asylum, seemingly deeply preoccupied with her own thoughts. Whatever Dr. Haku had said to her had obviously given her a lot to think about. Gaara watched her without seeming to watch her, wondering what conclusions she was coming to. As the second of Gaara's older siblings, Kankuro too would have some input on the matter, but in the end, it would be Temari's decision that really counted. Ever since their mother had disappeared, and their father had effectively cut himself out of Gaara's upbringing, it had been Temari that had stepped in to fill the role of parent to her younger sibling.

And so it was Temari's permission he would need before he could go out on his date with Neji.

"_Not really,"_ Shukaku pointed out. _"You've gone out twice now without her permission. Without her knowledge, even. Even if she wanted to refuse you, she can't keep you in the house if you decide to go. All you need is the sand, and me. You can have anything that you want. She can't stop you; no one could."_

"_And in this idealized I-get-anything-I-want scenario of yours,"_ Gaara returned, _"how many people end up dead?"_

"_Oh, not too many,"_ Shukaku said. _"Just the ones that get in your way. Two or three hundred, at the very most. In the first week. After that, who knows? The sky's the limit."_

"_As fun as that sounds,"_ Gaara told the demon dryly, _"I'm not interested in having 'Wanted: Dead or Alive' tacked on to the end of my name."_

"_But it has such a nice ring to it," _said the demon. _"No? Okay, how about, 'Terminate on Sight'? That's more classy, anyway." _

"_No, Shukaku." _

"… _I swear, you take the fun out of everything."_

Temari hardly even cast a glance at Gaara the whole time, not even when they'd reached their house. She finally spoke quietly to Kankuro, asking to have a private word with him. They closed themselves up in the office that Temari usually did her studying in. No doubt to discuss the 'insights' Dr. Haku had provided them. Since Gaara had not been invited to be privy to this conversation, he could only assume that a conclusion had not been reached, and as to whether he could go out with Neji that evening, the final call could go either way.

Temari probably thought that since the door of the office with closed, and the door happened to be made of particularly thick wood, Gaara would be prevented from eavesdropping on the discussion. Rather than press his ear to the door and make a futile attempt at listening in anyway, Gaara went upstairs and closed himself up in the bathroom. The house they lived in now had been renovated from its previous condition sometime in the past, and through some peculiar oversight, there was a non-functional heating vent that connected to both Temari's office area, and the upstairs bathroom. Temari likely had no idea that from a comfortable seat, Gaara could listen in on every word that she and Kankuro said.

"-just not sure about this," Temari's voice drifted in clearly from the vent. "It all seems a little sudden, don't you think? And we haven't even met this Neji boy. Shouldn't we at least talk to him a little first?"

"I really don't think an interrogation is what's needed here," Kankuro's voice followed hers. "Might scare him away."

"I just want to make sure he's not going to be a bad influence on Gaara. Gaara's unpredictable enough as it is," Temari said. "Honestly! Gaara's never had any friends before, and suddenly he does and I have no idea what to do about it. Especially if Gaara's determined not to take his medication." There were some shuffling noises; Temari was pacing across the carpet. "He could hurt somebody. He _will _hurt somebody. He always does…"

"Maybe this time he won't?" Kankuro said, though he didn't sound as though he fully believed it. Like his sister, Kankuro probably expected that at some time, with no warning, Gaara would lash out as he always did. There would be nothing they could do, but pack their things and move again. As they always did. "I mean, it's possible. He's got friends now, and like you said, he's never had any before. It could be a good thing. I say we let Gaara go out tonight. Dr. Haku said he'd benefit from more socialization. That with some support and understanding, the problem with Gaara's inner voice could be resolved, without need for medications."

"I don't know," Temari demurred. "I think we ought to wait until next week, when we can talk to Dr. Iira. She knows more about the situation than Dr. Haku. She thinks it's an imbalance of chemicals and hormones in the brain. Some sort of hereditary genetic thing."

"But no one else in our family is crazy," Kankuro said flatly. His tone dared Temari to contradict him.

Even from where he sat, Gaara could pick up the hint of anger in Kankuro's voice. It was an anger derived from fear. Gaara knew that was one of the things that scared his brother the most; that through the nature of their shared genetics, Kankuro would end up with the same tenuous, uncertain grasp on his sanity as Gaara had.

Temari's response was soft but relentless, pointing out a fact she knew would hurt, but needed to be acknowledged. "Mom went crazy."

"Mom wasn't crazy," Kankuro said stubbornly. "The doctors said it was some kind of postpartum psychosis. She was fine before Gaara was born. She would have been fine, if…"

"We can't know what would have happened, if the situation had been different," Temari cut in. "But we agreed, what happened to Mom wasn't Gaara's fault. I'm just glad that we were there to stop her when it happened. If you hadn't needed to go to the bathroom when you did…"

"She might not have killed him, if we weren't there," Kankuro said softly.

"Yes, she would have," Temari contradicted sadly. "You saw her. She wasn't… right. I'd never seen her like that. Mom was sick, sick enough to try and kill her own son."

"She was scared of him," Kankuro said. "And you have to admit, Gaara was pretty freaky, even at that age. You saw what he did with all your dolls. It was like the School Shooter Barbie Dream Massacre."

"Yeah, but he didn't deserve that," she said. "He wasn't hurting anybody, back then."

"I beg to differ," Kankuro said. "He practically bit our hands off when we were getting him out of the tub. I think I still have the scars."

"He was little and confused, and his mother had just tried to kill him," Temari said. "I think under the circumstances, it's to be expected that he'd react a little violently."

"_You told me I woke up in the bathroom alone,"_ Gaara said to Shukaku. _"When did I ever try biting their hands off?"_

"_You _did_ wake up alone in the bathroom. But I woke up first,"_ Shukaku said. _"Your brother and sister walked in on your mother trying to drown you, and made her stop. Your mother freaked out and ran, and never came back. Your siblings helped you out of the water."_

"_And you decided to repay them with violence?"_

"_Suddenly and horribly and all over the place,"_ Shukaku agreed with a self-satisfied chuckle. _"You should have heard the way your brother screamed when you bit into him and wouldn't let go. I think he may have wet himself. They ran out of there as soon as they pried you off." _

"_It's so nice of you to provide constant reminders of why I hate you,"_ Gaara said. _"Otherwise I might forget."_

The conversation downstairs continued, never knowing that there was someone listening in. "We haven't gotten a letter from her in a while," Temari was saying. "I wrote her a while back to let her know our new address, but…" She trailed off, and Gaara pictured her giving a helpless shrug. "In her last letter, she said she still wanted to come home and be a proper mother, but couldn't so long as Gaara was here. As if she expected us to just toss him in a dumpster or something. So I guess you and I are still stuck in the role of parents."

"You've done a good enough job of it so far," Kankuro said, attempting to be reassuring.

Temari didn't sound so convinced of that. "Have I? I've never been so certain of that. It still feels like we haven't made any progress with Gaara. I'm so tired of having to make all the decisions on what to do about him, of having to be _right_ all the time, for fear of what'll happen if I'm not. Sometimes… I wish I could hate Mom for abandoning us, and leaving this all up to me."

Kankuro was silent a moment, before asking in a quiet voice, "Do you ever wonder what our lives would have been like if Gaara had never been born?"

"Yes," Temari said. "Every single day."

_.x.x.x._

Gaara left the bathroom then. He didn't want to hear any more of what his siblings had to say about him. He'd known he was a burden to them. He'd known that for a long time, and he thought he'd accepted it. So he couldn't understand how it could still hurt to hear them say it.

Not for the first time, Gaara thought about simply giving in to all of Shukaku's urgings. What would happen if he finally just let the demon loose, to mutilate and demolish to its evil little heart's content? He'd always had little doubt that the mayhem would be short-lived; in the end he would be brought down, to be locked away and forgotten in a tiny room in some sanitarium. Never to see the outside again, never to be allowed near enough to people to cause harm, ever again. It might be better that way. Temari and Kankuro would be free of him then. They'd finally be allowed to have lives of their own, without having to worry about him ruining it.

It had been an idea he'd entertained countless times over the course of his life. Whenever it got too hard to hold on, he thought about letting go. He'd come close to doing just that a number of times, but something always stopped him. As bad as things were, he was still scared to give it all up. And now he wasn't sure if letting himself lose control was even an option anymore.

Always before, he'd been certain in the end someone would be able to stop him. Now with the sand, if it were really capable of the destruction Shukaku said it was, Gaara wasn't sure anyone could. If he lost it, there would be no failsafe, no kill switch. Who would save everyone from him then?

"_You worry so much about the lives of these weak little mortals,"_ Shukaku complained. _"Why do you need so much for someone to protect them from you? What makes you think they deserve to live? They haven't done anything for you. The ones that know you best fear you, and hate you. They wish you had never been born. And yet still you spare them. Such compassion is unwarranted and disgusting."_

"_I've told you why I won't let you do as you like,"_ Gaara replied to the demon tiredly. He wandered into his bedroom, closing the door out of habit, and plopping down on the bed. He stared out the window without really seeing the view.

"_Uh-huh. And I still think your reasons are stupid,"_ Shukaku said. _"But go ahead and hang on to that naive ignorance of yours, for as long as you can. One of these days, you'll figure out that I'm right. And when you finally do, then the games will begin."_

He didn't know the rules to this game Shukaku intended to play, but whatever they were, Gaara had a feeling that in winning, his very self would be lost.

The morose direction his thoughts were heading was temporarily halted by the sounds of his siblings' footsteps coming up the stairs. They must have finally decided what the fate of his evening was to be. After the little he'd overheard of their conversation, Gaara didn't have high hopes that this was going to end the way he wanted. It looked like it would be another night of sneaking out the window and down the drainpipe.

There was a soft knock on his bedroom door. "Gaara?" Temari asked, in that quiet way she did when she was trying to hide her nervousness. "Can we come in and talk to you for a minute?"

Gaara got off the bed, opening the door. He favored both his siblings with a long, unreadable stare, before turning away and moving back into the depths of his private sanctuary. As he'd left the door open, Temari and Kankuro hesitantly took it as an invitation to enter. Since the room was dim, with just the fading daylight through the curtains for illumination, Kankuro flipped the light switch. Since Gaara had never gotten around to changing the bulb that had burned out, no light came on. An uncomfortable silence followed, and Gaara switched on the little bedside lamp.

Gaara said nothing. Neither Temari nor Kankuro seemed to know where to start, and Gaara wasn't about to give them any hints. After overhearing their true feelings about him, it was something of a pleasure to let them squirm, as they tried to think of the right things to say while under the regard of Gaara's dark glare.

Temari spoke up first, as Gaara had expected she would. "Gaara, about the little talk we had yesterday… I still think it's a mistake for you not to take your medications…" When Gaara's already dark glare took on a whole new level of animosity, she hurried to continue. "But I understand that you've got your reasons for not wanting to. And since you do seem to be doing better since we've moved here, I think we can let it slide for the time being. But if we decided that the medication is needed, we will find a way to get you to take it. Okay?"

Gaara knew that no matter what happened or what his siblings decided, there was no way in hell he was ever going to take those pills again. But he decided now was not the right time to mention that.

"Also, I don't like the way you've been going out at night without permission. Kankuro and I really worry about you. If that sort of thing continues, I'm afraid we'll have to take more drastic measures for keeping you at home." Temari sighed and rubbed her forehead, as though this was all giving her a colossal headache. "No, that isn't what I meant to say. Kankuro and I are willing to allow you a few more freedoms, if you're willing to talk it out with us first. We just want what's best for you."

"Temari and I talked about it," Kankuro spoke up for the first time since entering the room. "We think it would be okay for you to go out tonight with your friend, as long as you're not out too late. He's one of the ones you've been hanging out with at lunch, right?" He frowned thoughtfully. "Is he the one with the long girly hair, or the loud blonde one?"

Gaara considered getting offended on Neji's behalf over his brother's choice of words, before reluctantly deciding against it. For one thing, Neji had probably gotten dozens of such comments in his life, and if they bothered him, he would have cut his hair long ago. For another, any sort of display of temper from Gaara at this stage could easily revoke any new privileges his siblings were prepared to allow him. If Gaara remembered it later, he'd just have the sand wear holes through all of Kankuro's socks as petty revenge, and leave it at that.

"Neji's the one with long hair," Gaara said, pointedly refusing to refer to it as 'girly,' even if it was. "Naruto is the loud blonde one. There's Sasuke too, but you probably won't be seeing him around."

Temari nodded, as though filing this information away for further reference. "I hate to ask this, and I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but… have you told them? About… yourself?"

She wanted to know if he'd told them about the things he'd done, in the many places they had lived before. She wanted to know if he'd told them about Shukaku. Gaara almost smiled. "They know more about me than you could ever imagine."

_.x.x.x._

When Temari and Kankuro had finished their lecturing and left him to his own devices, Gaara called Neji. Neji was gratifyingly happy to hear that their date that evening was still on. They talked a few minutes more about what restaurant would be the best to dine in. Well, mostly Neji talked; Gaara had little to add to the conversation. He'd never been to a restaurant before, as far as he was aware. Growing up, the only time he was allowed out among the masses was when he was at school. His family would never dare take him out in public more often than strictly necessary.

They finally decided on a place, one that Neji said was one of his favorites. Gaara really couldn't care less where they went or what they ate, so long as he was there with Neji. But that sounded corny, so he didn't mention it.

It wasn't until after they'd said their goodbyes and Gaara had hung up the phone that the doubts finally crept in. It had been easier before he'd known for sure if he'd even be allowed out on a date with Neji. Now that such a thing was possible, there was nothing to do for the next few hours but worry about it.

Gaara hadn't actually mentioned to Neji that he'd never been to a restaurant, and therefore had no idea what to wear or how to behave. Not to mention, as Shukaku gleefully pointed out, that most restaurants had a wide selection of easily accessible utensils, that could be easily turned to weaponry. Knives of various sizes, and a different fork for every course of the meal. Without too much effort, a creatively-minded demon could even turn the glassware into something deadly. Gaara was afraid Shukaku would find the whole situation far too much of a temptation.

"_If it makes you feel any better,"_ Shukaku said, _"I promise not to kill anyone where Neji can see us. That way, we'll still get our goodnight kiss."_

"How very reassuring," Gaara muttered.

He could practically hear the demon grinning. _"Can't say I never do anything nice for you." _

"If you really wanted to do something nice for me, you could just not talk to me for the next twenty-four hours," Gaara said. "Or ever again, for that matter."

"_I'm not _that_ nice,"_ Shukaku said. _"Besides, if it weren't for my encouragement, you'd never maim anybody."_

"My point, exactly."

Gaara had a distinct urge to pace the floor, an action he'd never before indulged in. Part of him was almost glad for the conversation with Shukaku; at least it helped keep him distracted. As for the rest of the time, Gaara moved restlessly from one thing to another. He looked through the meager selection of clothing he owned, trying to decide what was appropriate to wear to this date. All he had besides his school uniforms were a couple t-shirts and jeans, and he hoped that would be good enough. He tried reading a while in his book of the hidden ninja villages, but even the engaging subject matter failed to hold his attentions for long. He wandered into the bathroom and flushed all the rest of his anti-psychotic medication down the toilet; now that his siblings knew he wasn't taking the pills, there was no point in keeping them around anymore.

Despite a restless nervousness that he couldn't seem to shake, it was something of a relief when it was finally time to get ready to go. Gaara finally settled at the last minute just to wear his least wrinkled clothing. The sand made a little whine from his backpack as he prepared to leave his room, and so he reluctantly gathered up the back to bring it with him. It had been handy to have around in the past, after all, and he couldn't know when he might need a little sandy backup again in the future.

Temari felt obligated to give him another lecture before he left, on what was expected of him, and he was forced to oblige her by listening to the whole thing without scowling too much. He could really only half focus on what she was saying anyway, since Shukaku was adding commentary of his own, about which of Temari's orifices Gaara's sister could stuff her advice into. Not for the first time, Gaara was glad no one else could hear what went on inside his head. If his siblings knew, no doubt they would cancel this little outing in a heartbeat.

At last Gaara escaped out into the slightly muggy evening air. It was overcast, and the clouds had taken on a peculiar yellowy color, like an old bruise. It looked like they would be in for a thunderstorm sometime that night. But for now, there was no rain, so Gaara didn't bother to go back in for an umbrella.

Despite the restlessness of the day, there was a dogged touch of excitement that quickened Gaara's steps through the evening's odd half-light. He didn't know quite what he was expecting from this date they had planned, but even that added its own anticipation. Of the moment, he and Neji were just two boys with a shared past, and an old love. But that was from a different time, a different life. It felt a little like they were starting over, given the chance to build a new life and a new love to fill it.

Shukaku made some loud retching noises, to illustrate his disgust with Gaara's current wistful mood.

He arrived at Neji's house, and stood on the porch for several long minutes before knocking on the door. It was promptly opened by a young girl with a strong family resemblance to Neji, with the same long dark hair and piercing opalescent eyes. Gaara remembered Neji saying something about his two cousins staying with him while they're parents were out of town, and so concluded that this must be Hinata's younger sister, Hanabi.

Hanabi stood in the doorway, blocking admittance, and gave Gaara a drawn-out inspection, though what she was looking for, Gaara couldn't begin to guess. But in the end, he must have passed, because the girl turned and called out toward the living room. "Neji, your boyfriend's here!"

Gaara suppressed a wince at the announcement, still unsure about labeling himself and Neji as "boyfriends." But it seemed that was the conclusion Hanabi had come to, and when Neji stepped into the hallway from the living room, he did not correct his cousin on her use of the word. Gaara was somewhat relieved to see that Neji too had only bothered with jeans and a t-shirt, so it seemed wherever they were going embraced a relaxed dress-code.

"When will you be back?" Hanabi asked, as Neji gathered up his coat and an umbrella. She was watching the both of them with a serene, almost amused expression, as though she knew something she knew they were trying to hide from her.

"A few hours or so," Neji answered vaguely. "We're going to dinner, so it'll just be you and Hinata to cook for tonight. If father calls, let him know I'll call him back tomorrow night, alright?"

"Mm-hmm," Hanabi murmured, her secretive smile never wavering. "Have a good time tonight, then."

As the door closed behind them, and the two started off down the street, Gaara considered asking Neji if Hanabi was always like that. He decided against it in the end, since it might come out sounding rude. Instead he went for what he hoped was a more neutral remark. "She called me your boyfriend."

Neji cast him an amused look. "Well you are," he said. "Aren't you?"

"I guess I hadn't thought about it in those terms…"

"You were the one who broke into my house at two in the morning with the intention of kissing me," Neji commented lightly. "I have to say, if not boyfriend, then stalker."

"_See? Even he can tell,"_ Shukaku said. _"You're a stalker. Admit it. Embrace it. Live it."_

"_Shut it," _Gaara commanded.

They walked together mostly in companionable silence. Every now and again, Neji would point out some landmark or other, giving Gaara a sort of abbreviated tour of the town. Since Gaara hadn't gotten to go out much, it was all new to him.

The restaurant was located in a nice shopping district, amid fancy overpriced boutiques, salons, small businesses and fashionable bookstores. Looking around, Gaara decided that when he was feeling generous, he might mention this place to Temari. She'd probably like it.

The restaurant itself was obviously a popular one, as there was a large crowd of people hovering around the entrance, eager for a chance to dine within. Gaara eyed the crowd with some trepidation. This was just the sort of situation he was loathe to find himself in. He could already feel Shukaku's excitement at such a herd of unwitting victims. And from the size of the line, it would probably be a long time before he and Neji would be able to get a table. Gaara would be stuck out here with these people, like a wolf trapped among the sheep.

And one of the sheep he regrettably recognized, just as they themselves were spotted. Shukaku's gleeful mood turned instantly to animal fury, as Tashimura-sensei broke away from the main body of the crowd and moved over to greet them. The sand gave a warning hiss from the backpack, and for once Gaara didn't bother to try and quiet it.

"Neji, what a surprise seeing you here!" the teacher said as he approached.

"_I take back what I said,"_ Shukaku growled. _"Between the two of you, my vote's on this guy as stalker material."_

Neji returned the greeting politely. "And you remember Gaara from the other day at lunch?"

"Yes, when you were all chased into my classroom by the mob of girls," Tashimura-sensei said. His gaze flicked to Gaara briefly, and it seemed there was no warmth in his gaze for him. "Nice meeting you, Gaara."

"_I'll just bet it is,"_ Gaara thought sourly. Out loud, he asked, "Where's Shiten-sensei?"

"Inside, trying to get us a table," Tashimura-sensei replied easily, seemingly unconcerned by Gaara's insinuation that he and Shiten-sensei were together. "We should have known better than to try and come here on a Saturday." His gaze returned to Neji, and there was genuine affection in his voice. "But it's a happy accident, as I got a chance to run in to you. It's an odd thing, meeting up with a student outside of class."

The restaurant door opened, and Shiten-sensei emerged. "Looks like it'll be a while before they'll have a free table, so…" He trailed off when he noticed the two boys talking with Tashimura-sensei. "Didn't realize we had company."

"This is Neji," Tashimura-sensei introduced. "And his friend, Gora."

"Gaara," Shiten-sensei corrected automatically, his tone flat. "He's in one of my classes. So this is the infamous Neji." He looked Neji over for a moment, before seeming to dismiss him, focusing on Tashimura-sensei. "Anyway, I think it would be for the best to pick a different restaurant to eat at tonight, Tashi."

Tahimura-sensei smiled indulgently at Shiten-sensei, but happily demurred. "But this is one of the nicest places in town, and I've been looking forward to this all week. Besides, I don't mind waiting out here with Neji."

"Actually, sensei, Gaara and I have reservations," Neji said respectfully. "But I'm sure it won't take all that long for a new table to open up for the both of you. Enjoy your dinner."

"I didn't know we had reservations," Gaara said to Neji as they made their way through the crowd. Neji seemed oblivious to the annoyed looks of the other patrons as they moved past them. Gaara blatantly ignored them.

"My uncle is friends with the manager," Neji said as he opened the door for the both of them. "I called him earlier to make sure we'd have a table. This place is always so crowded on the weekends. But the food is worth it."

Gaara just nodded as he followed Neji inside. After the mugginess of the outside, the restaurant's air conditioning was a blessing. Inside the lobby it was barely less crowded than outside, but Neji made his way through the crush of people, with such an easy, purposeful demeanor, that people moved out of his way without really realizing they were. Neji had the very presence that suggested that his rightful place was at the head of the line, and such an accompanying graciousness that no one seemed to begrudge him that position. Gaara barely made it through, and only because he was with Neji.

Neji gave the hostess his name, and she checked it off on her list of reservations. She gathered a pair of menus, and graciously showed the two of them to their table.

The main restaurant was a large open room, but the many tables were all set somewhat apart from one another, so that the guests dining at one table would not easily overhear the conversations at another. It had a relaxed, sophisticated atmosphere, though the patrons were in attire ranging from stiff collared business suits, to construction worker duds spattered in long-dried paint.

The two of them were led to a table cozied up in one corner. Once they were seated, they were given menus before the hostess excused herself, with the promise that their waitress would be there shortly.

Gaara sat a little awkwardly in the especially comfortable chair, and when the waitress came around, he ordered something at random off the menu. He was uncomfortable being here. Shukaku had been riled from the beginning, and meeting Tashimura-sensei outside hadn't helped matters at all. Gaara's dislike for the teacher grew every time he saw him. And he still hadn't decided whether or not to tell Neji about what he'd overheard in the locker room the other day.

Neji idly unfolded his napkin, and offered an amused smile at Gaara. As though he'd read Gaara's mind, he commented, "You didn't seem too thrilled to see Tashimura-sensei outside. I take it you don't like him much."

"_I will say one thing for Neji,"_ Shukaku said. _"He's definitely perceptive."_

"I don't even know him," Gaara hedged. "Do you like him?"

"He's an excellent teacher, and I've enjoyed a few interesting debates with him before," Neji said. "I will admit, he can be a bit peculiar at times. And he can get very intense over subjects that interest him."

"_Not to mention the people that interest him, too,"_ Gaara added silently.

"But, we didn't really come here to talk about him," Neji said, waving the subject away as unimportant. "This is our date, so I'd much rather hear about you."

That was another subject Gaara wasn't particularly comfortable talking about, but it definitely beat talking about that creep Tashimura-sensei. So, prompted by Neji's questions, Gaara started to relate the story of his life, or at least the relevant bits. Neji had a way of making Gaara relax, so that the act of talking about himself wasn't a painful ordeal. Once he started getting the hang of that conversing thing, he was able to turn the subject to that of Neji's own experiences. The food arrived, and as Neji had promised, it was delicious. Shukaku kept obscurely quiet throughout the whole meal, and while Gaara found that to be suspicious, he was nonetheless grateful for the demon's prolonged silence. It was, on the whole, a very pleasant first date.

As the meal wrapped up, Gaara excused himself to go to the bathroom. When he stood up from his chair, the sand in his backpack, which also had held its peace throughout the meal, offered up another of its piteous whines.

Neji cast an amused glance at the backpack. "Doesn't like to be left behind, does it?"

Gaara grabbed up the bag, even though he felt ridiculous toting the thing to the bathroom with him. But at least it would keep the sand happy. "I'll be right back," he promised.

For such a large restaurant, the bathrooms were empty of any other patrons when Gaara stepped inside. He took care of his business quickly, then crossed over to the sink. As he was finishing washing his hands, he caught sight of another figure besides his own reflected in the mirror, watching him. Gaara scowled, and turned around to face Tashimura-sensei.

Strangely, the sand was very still and quiet inside his backpack. Still he could feel the tension within it, like predatory animal, waiting only for the right moment to strike its prey.

"Ah, Garuu," Tashimura-sensei greeted him. Though his tone endeavored for polite, it fell conspicuously short.

"It's Gaara," he corrected. His own tone didn't even come close to polite. He didn't want to talk to Tashimura-sensei, and he didn't care if the teacher knew it. Gaara moved toward the bathroom's exit, but Tashimura-sensei blocked his way.

"What is Neji to you?" Tashimura-sensei demanded.

Gaara glared up at him, debating whether to let the sand out of the bag to do… whatever it was Shukaku always hinted the sand could do. He decided against it, but only just. As much as he wanted to hurt this man, doing so would definitely ruin what had been a very nice date. "None of your business. Get out of my way."

"No, I don't think I will," Tashimura-sensei said. "Not until you tell me what I want to know. What is Neji to you?"

"My boyfriend," Gaara said. It felt good to admit it out loud. It felt right.

Tashimura-sensei didn't seem to think so, however. "You're lying. Neji doesn't have a boyfriend!"

"He does, actually," Gaara said.

"You can't have him," Tashimura said in a somewhat clipped tone. "You ought to stay away from him. You don't _deserve _him!"

"_Kill him,"_ Shukaku whispered, the demon's words so dark and tantalizing. _"He wants to take what's ours. He dares to try and lay his own claim, to tell us what we can and cannot do. He deserves to die. Unleash the sands. Let us kill him for you. For you, and for Neji. To protect Neji. You want to, you know you do."_

And Gaara did want to. Shukaku's words brought forth a tide of surging red emotion, a haze of hatred. It filled his mind like a blood-soaked cloud, urging him lose his sanity in the fog, to give up all control. To kill.

To _kill._

"Get out of my way," Gaara said through gritted teeth. "Don't ever talk to me again." He started to push past Tashimura, in an effort to get out. The spacious restroom suddenly seemed very claustrophobic, and if he stayed here any longer, he knew he was going to lose it.

"Don't walk away from me!" Tashimura commanded, grabbing hold of Gaara's backpack.

Gaara fought back the resurgence of fury. "You really don't want to do that."

"_Oh yes,"_ Shukaku all but purred. _"I really do."_

"I mean it," Tashimura was saying. "You will stay away from him. Even if I have to _make_ you-"

The restroom door opened. Tashimura's hand immediately fell away from Gaara's backpack. Another of the restaurant's patrons entered the room, glancing curiously at the two of them standing in the middle of it. Gaara took the chance to duck out of there, without so much as a glance back. Tashimura didn't follow him.

Neji watched him with a concerned expression as Gaara returned to the table. "Is something the matter?"

Gaara sat, for a moment still too overwhelmed with the overflow of Shukaku's rage to speak. He took several breaths, willing down the madness that still called for Tashimura's blood. Neji watched him in askance, waiting for Gaara to say something.

Gaara wanted to tell him. It would just get worse if he didn't.

"It's nothing," Gaara finally said. "Now, how about dessert?"


	16. Catalyst

As hard as Gaara tried to enjoy the rest of his date with Neji, it soon became apparent to him that the incident with Tashimura had ruined it. It was a chore just to make it through the dessert he'd ordered; as appealing as it had appeared on the menu, it might as well have been dirt for all that Gaara tasted it. He tried to keep up appearances for Neji's sake, but with the odd look Neji kept studying him with, Gaara didn't think he was succeeding.

"_Neji's observant, and you're a bad actor,"_ Shukaku grumbled, the first that the demon had spoken to him since they'd returned to the table. The demon was still pissed Gaara hadn't given in to his demands to cause mass violence with extreme prejudice. _"There's no saving this date after that. Might as well set the restaurant on fire now and be done with it."_

Gaara ignored Shukaku, knowing that nothing the demon suggested now would be worth listening to. Not that Shukaku _ever_ offered any useful ideas, but Gaara knew this particular mood of the demon's better than anything. Unless Shukaku calmed down (or on the unlikely chance that Gaara managed to distract him), the red haze of hatred and rage would perpetually hover at the edges of Gaara's consciousness, slowly eating at his sanity. The only cure, as temporary though it might be, was to give in. Just a little bit. Pick a victim, and spill their blood. Just enough, to assuage the demon's rage.

But that, Gaara knew from so many years of experience, really didn't make anything better at all. And this time around, he had so much more to lose than ever before.

"Are you done?" Neji asked in a quiet voice.

Gaara stared at him, for a moment not quite comprehending what he was talking about.

"_Eating, you idiot,"_ Shukaku growled. _"He wants to know if you're done eating."_

Gaara's gaze dropped to his dessert, or what was left of it. The ice cream had melted into sugary soup, and Gaara had been mindlessly stirring the chocolaty mess for the last five minutes without eating any of it. His stomach rebelled at the very thought of taking in another bite of it now, and so Gaara pushed it away from him.

"Yeah," he muttered. "I'm done."

Neji just looked at him for a moment, before seeming to accept it. He signaled to a waitress, and she brought over the bill. Gaara reached for his backpack, in which he'd stashed the small wad of cash he'd brought with him, but Neji waved it off.

"I'll pay," Neji said calmly. He pulled out his own money, handing it over to the waitress. She thanked him, and left to get his receipt.

Gaara didn't know if it was acceptable or appropriate to let Neji pay for the whole meal, but he kept silent. There were too many things he didn't know about dating, and he wasn't keen on letting his ignorance become common knowledge so soon after acquiring a boyfriend. With an idle thought, he assured himself that he'd do some research on the subject before they went on their next date.

Part of him hoped that their next date would be soon. The other part, judging on what had happened on this date, cynically suggested they cut their losses and never see Neji again. It would probably be better that way, for both of them.

Gaara just wasn't meant to be with people. He didn't know _what_ had made him think that this time would be any different…

"Gaara?" Neji prompted softly.

Gaara cast a brief glance his way, then grabbed his backpack and stood, resolutely heading out of the restaurant. He knew it wasn't very polite, but implacable cynicism assured him that by this point, it didn't matter all that much. Just because he didn't want to tell Neji about his brief and angry conversation with Tashimura, didn't mean that Gaara could act as though nothing was wrong.

Neji easily fell into step beside Gaara, walking along with him as though he noticed nothing wrong with Gaara's behavior. Maybe he didn't, even, though Gaara had a hard time believing that. As Shukaku had said, Neji was observant. Neji could tell something was off.

And still Gaara couldn't bring himself to tell Neji what had happened. He knew he ought to, but the memory of the incident was tied directly to the fury that waited in the wings. Gaara feared that even to speak of it would unleash it.

It was dark outside, as the evening had progressed almost to the point of night, and still there was a crowd hovering anxiously around the doors to the restaurant for their turn to enter. Gaara didn't see Tashimura on the way out, but he had his suspicions that the teacher was still lurking around somewhere. He just hoped that wherever the man was, Shiten-sensei would be able to keep him contained. If Gaara saw Tashimura now, there was no telling what Gaara might end up doing to him.

"_I could tell you,"_ Shukaku offered, sweetly malicious glee evident in his voice. _"It'd start with the head and end with the guts, with a whole lot of blood in between. And screaming. Can't forget the screaming."_

As the two of them headed out of the downtown area and into the peaceful suburbs, the amounts of people out and about on their own business gradually tapered off, until at last the streets were empty of all but the two of them. Anger still throbbed like a canker at the back of Gaara's mind, but as they walked along in the cooling air, its furious insistence began to cool.

"So," Neji finally spoke up, when there was no longer anyone around to eavesdrop on their conversation. "Will you tell me what's wrong now?"

As Gaara hesitated, Shukaku spoke up. _"Don't tell him," _the demon advised. _"That way he won't have to pretend to be surprised when Tashimura's body is found in a ditch. It's called plausible deniability." _

Gaara really ought to tell him. Neji should be forewarned, in case Tashimura really did try something. He would never even know there was a threat, unless Gaara told him. But Gaara didn't want to tell him. It didn't make any sense that Gaara couldn't even bring himself to speak the words, even though he knew he should. But he didn't want to tell him, because there was that chance that Neji wouldn't believe him.

That's what it ultimately came down to. It had taken a display of undeniable evidence before Neji had even been willing to consider the possibility of reincarnation, the proof of dreams, or demons. Gaara had no proof to offer Neji for this. And if Neji chose not to believe him, it might ruin everything between them.

Then again, if Gaara didn't tell him, everything might as well be ruined, anyway.

"Gaara?" Neji prompted gently, when Gaara didn't say anything.

Gaara stopped walking and looked down the street, not really focusing on anything. Neji stopped with him, waiting in quiet patience for Gaara to explain himself. "I met up with Tashimura when I went to the restroom," Gaara finally said. Just saying that name made Shukaku snarl, and Gaara had to take a second to tamp down his rage before he could continue. Still the sands hissed in his backpack, not willing to be calmed. "He told me to stay away from you. Said I didn't deserve you. He wants you for _himself, _and I… want to kill him."

Silence followed Gaara's declaration. Gaara closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was over now. He'd _known_ Neji wouldn't believe him. He never should have said anything…

"I knew there had to be a reason you seemed to dislike Tashimura-sensei so much," Neji said. "I have to admit, though, that wasn't what I was expecting."

Gaara's eyes flew open, and he stared at Neji incredulously. "You believe me?"

"Did you lie to me?" Neji asked.

"No!"

"Then why shouldn't I believe you?" Neji started walking again, and a heartbeat later, Gaara did too. "Tashimura-sensei has always been peculiar around me. Watches me a lot when he thinks I won't notice. I had a class with him last year, and at the end of the semester, he all but begged me to sign up for another of his classes this year. He doesn't pay nearly so much attention to his other students."

"And you don't think that's… weird?"

"Of course it's weird," Neji said. "But Tashimura-sensei is harmless. He hasn't acted in an inappropriate manner toward me, and he really is a good teacher. So I just ignore his minor eccentricities. But if he's bothering you, I'll talk to him on Monday about it. He'll stop."

Gaara frowned a little. He wasn't worried about Tashimura for his own sake; he had a bloodthirsty demon and a backpack full of sand to protect him, if it came down to that. But Neji had neither of those things, and he didn't seem to take the teacher's obsession with him seriously. Neji might think Tashimura was harmless, but Gaara didn't believe it.

It seemed then that the task of keeping Neji safe lay solely on Gaara. He wouldn't be able to protect him at all times- they did have different school schedules, after all. But Neji ought to be safe enough during class periods. Even Tashimura wasn't crazy enough to try something in front of so many witnesses. But outside of class, Neji would have a protector, and woe to any that dared try and cause him harm.

"_You see?"_ Shukaku said, with more than a little self-satisfaction. _"I told you Neji was ours." _

"I am sorry Tashimura-sensei had to come by and upset you," Neji continued, completely unaware that he had just acquired a bodyguard. "It had been such a nice date before that, too."

"_And so it still can be,"_ Shukaku said. Gaara didn't trust the mischievous glee in the demon's voice.

The rustling of the sand in the backpack caught Gaara's attention. The sound of the zipper tugging open soon followed, and the sand escaped with a sigh, drifting around the two boys in whispering streamers. The two boys watched in silence as the sandy ribbons twined around them, humming as they performed their playful dance. Almost shyly, with quick darting and fleeting touches, the sand nudged and tugged at them, drawing them close together.

Neji smiled at the sand's antics, his eyes bright with amusement as they met Gaara's gaze. Of course, he would think the sand was obeying some silent whim of Gaara's; how was he to know the sand was currently dancing to Shukaku's tune? And what could the demon mean by such a display, anyway?

"_All dates should end with a goodnight kiss,"_ Shukaku informed him in a superior tone. _"And hell if I'm going to let anything screw that up."_

Was that all that the demon wanted? If so, then Shukaku was easier to please than Gaara had ever imagined…

"_And after we get our kiss, we'll go commit mass killings. Won't that be fun? Mass killings?"_

"_No, Shukaku."_

"_Fine, be that way. But even you have to admit I'm right about the kissing,"_ the demon continued. _"I mean, think about it. You're here, he's here. No one else is here. What are you wasting time talking to me for, anyway?"_

Before Gaara could even formulate a reply to correct the demon, Neji took it upon himself to solve the dilemma. All but the simplest of Gaara's thought processes shut down the moment Neji kissed him.

How easily Gaara could become addicted to this feeling, assuming he was not already. He and Neji fit so well together, their bodies pressed close enough they could all but hear each other's heartbeat. Gaara's was racing, tripping over itself in its eagerness. Such a simple thing a kiss was, to evoke such a wide array of feeling. It seemed as though every nuance was noted separately, before weaving into the dazzling tapestry of sensation and emotion.

Neji's taste, subtle and indescribable, yet somehow so appealing. Neji's hands that idly petted Gaara's hair, smoothed down his arms, held him close. The pleasant, elusive scent of Neji's skin. The heat that gathered between them, inevitable and unavoidable. Their breaths mingled in soft sighs, brief whispered sounds that meant nothing and everything.

Neji kissed him slowly, as if they had all the time in the world to enjoy this moment, and maybe they did, even. Gaara clung to him, not even consciously aware of his little urgings for more, but Neji would not be rushed. Neji led, and Gaara could do nothing but follow his pace. Gaara couldn't remember ever feeling this way before. Happy, for once in his life. And loved.

Except, Gaara found, he _could_ remember. As though stirred up by sensation from his deepest subconscious, memory surfaced. Flickers of imagery, of feeling, twined reality with a lifetime he had not lived in centuries. Both were so real, so perfectly vivid, for a moment Gaara lost track of which life he was actually living. In one life, Neji kissed him beneath the soft, orangey glow of the streetlamp, the evening air a welcome counterpoint on their heated skin.

But in his past life, it was afternoon in a shade-dappled forest. A thick bed of sand cushioned his bare body from coming in contact with the rough ground. Neji lay with him, their limbs entwined, their bodies joined and straining against one another's in the most primal of dances. Neji paid homage to Gaara's slick skin in whispered words and a thousand kisses. Gaara tried to speak, tried to tell him what it meant to him, but all he could manage to gasp out into the humid air was _"please, please, please…"_

And then the brief flash of memory was gone, depositing Gaara firmly back into his current lifetime. He stood a bit stunned in Neji's embrace, as his mind scrambled to readjust itself to reality.

"_So that's what it was like,"_ Shukaku's unwelcome commentary intruding into Gaara's thoughts. _"I never got to watch, before. Always knew you were hogging all the good stuff for yourself."_

Gaara pushed away from Neji, Shukaku's words dealing the final, killing blow to the mood. Neji looked at Gaara in askance, but Gaara just shook his head. He couldn't explain to Neji what he'd seen, what he'd seen and felt them _doing_. It was still too new a thing, at times, for Gaara to be completely comfortable sharing his secrets with anyone. Even though Neji, of all people, might be the only one who would understand.

Silence permeated the air for a long, awkward moment. Neji nodded then, seeming to accept that there was something that Gaara wouldn't or couldn't tell him, and started walking down the street again. The sand made a mournful little whine, until Gaara cast it a look and it swept back into his backpack, tugging the zipper closed behind it.

They walked the rest of the way to Gaara's house without speaking. Gaara used the time to try and figure out what had just happened. Before, he'd had to be sleeping or in a kind of trance in order to see a memory from his past life. This one had come out of nowhere, with no warning. Were his memories now just going to surface spontaneously and unasked for? Or was this a one-time deal, called forth by a heightened and turbulent emotional state?

"_Which answer would you prefer it to be?"_ Shukaku asked. He sounded far too cheerful. It seemed the unprompted memory vision had helped the demon forget all about the murderous rage it had been in, not even an hour ago.

"_Shut up,"_ Gaara commanded the demon.

"_No need to sound so savage,"_ Shukaku said. _"It's not my fault your mind is turning against you."_

"_I wouldn't bet on that."_

The lights were still on in the living room of Gaara's house, he noted as they approached. Temari and Kankuro were probably both in there now, waiting for him to get home. Just to make sure he'd been a good little boy while he was gone. And he _had_, Gaara thought with a wry touch of pride. As much as he'd wanted to hurt Tashimura, as hard as Shukaku had urged him, Gaara hadn't. And that had to be worth something.

Neji walked with him up to the door. Gaara stood with him there a moment, not sure of what he should do, what he should say.

Neji finally spoke. "I had a good time," he said, a little solemnly. "I'm sorry if you didn't."

"I did," Gaara hastened to assure him. And he had… in the beginning. It had started out so _well_. "I did, but…" He trailed off helplessly, without knowing how to complete that sentence.

"It's okay." Neji smiled faintly. "I'll see you on Monday." He turned, and walked away.

Gaara stood on the porch and watched him go. He should have asked him to stay. He should have said _something_. But he hadn't, and Neji was gone. He opened the door, and walked inside.

_.x.x.x._

Gaara spent Sunday alone. Well, as alone as he ever got, when the constant company of a demon in his head. A demon that was altogether too smug. Gaara didn't know how his previous incarnation had managed to keep Shukaku from seeing the private moments between himself and Neji (and of course, Shukaku wasn't telling), but Gaara would do almost anything for the secret of blocking Shukaku out, even just for a little while. Maybe the trick to it would be somewhere in all the books Orochimaru-sensei had promised to bring to their Ninja Club meeting.

"_Shouldn't put too much hope in all those books,"_ Shukaku warned him. _"Or in that teacher."_

"What exactly do you have against Orochimaru-sensei, anyway?" Gaara asked the demon. "He's been a lot more helpful in a week than you've been my entire life."

"_A little too helpful, don't you think?" _Shukaku said. _"Got to ask yourself, what's he getting out of all of this?"_

"Maybe he's just nice," Gaara suggested. "Some people are like that, or so I've heard."

"_Selflessness is a myth,"_ proclaimed the demon. _"Nobody does something for nothing. Your snake teacher wants something from you, and Neji, and Sasuke. Maybe Naruto too, but honestly, who'd want anything from that fox-idiot? Anyway, my point is, I don't trust the guy."_

"Shukaku, you don't trust anybody. You're paranoid."

"_Fine, don't believe me. But when he's got you in a jar awaiting dissection, don't expect me to get you out."_

"Yeah, right," Gaara muttered. "As if I ever expect anything but the worst from you."

Shukaku wouldn't talk to him for the rest of the day. It was the nicest gift the demon had ever given him.

_.x.x.x._

Monday morning arrived cold and drippy. Thick clouds crowded up the sky, but in the whole lot of them, not a one could manage up a decent rain. So they just dribbled forlornly here and there over the city. Gaara watched them turning the world a mopey gray for at least an hour before his alarm clock even went off. He hadn't slept well.

Temari had provided pancakes for breakfast, even allowed him the use of a knife and fork, but Gaara wasn't particularly hungry. He ate because he knew he ought to, lest his siblings make a big deal about it, but the food sat like a heavy weight in his stomach.

He would have to talk to Neji today, explain to him about what had happened at the end of their date. He still didn't know why exactly he'd gotten that sudden flash of memory, and it hadn't happened since. He hoped Neji would understand, and forgive him for acting so oddly about it.

"_Of course he will,"_ Shukaku assured him. _"He's ours. He doesn't have a choice."_

"_Is that your answer to everything?"_ Gaara asked him. It seemed Shukaku was willing to talk to him again. Pity.

"_No, my answer to most things is usually stabbing. But in this case, yes; Neji is ours, and therefore, isn't allowed to be upset with us."_

"_That's the stupidest logic I've ever heard."_

Shukaku let out an irritated huff. _"Why is it no one ever believes me about this stuff?"_

"_Because you're an incarnation of evil?"_

"_Oh, right. Okay, so maybe there's ONE reason not to trust me. But only one,"_ Shukaku said. _"Other than that, you can believe everything I tell you." _

"_You realize that doesn't make any sense, right?"_ Gaara asked him.

"_You realize that you get the dopiest expression on your face when you're talking to me, don't you?"_

Gaara scowled, and proceeded to ignore the demon as best he could. It wasn't helped by the fact that Shukaku spent the entire walk to school laughing at him.

It was something of a relief to find Neji waiting for him outside the school when he arrived at the campus. But it was strange to note, Naruto wasn't there waiting with him. After all of Naruto's insistent stalker-esque efforts at becoming friends, it was odd not to see him here. But maybe he'd slept in that morning, and just hadn't arrived yet. It hardly mattered, and it was kind of a relief not to have the blonde tagging along behind him everywhere.

Temari and Kankuro murmured their customary farewells to him before making their way through the crowds. Gaara watched as Temari met up with a couple girls, animatedly talking with them as the group headed inside. Similarly, Kankuro waved a greeting to a couple guys in passing. Gaara's siblings were making friends at the school, just as he had. They'd never really done that before. They'd always been too busy looking after him, always aware that they'd have to pack up and move at a moment's notice. But this time around, it seemed they might have genuine hope that things would be different.

"_Hope is good. I like hope,"_ Shukaku said. _"It makes the greatest crunching noise when you smash it into little bits." _

"_It's bad enough that you have to ruin my life,"_ Gaara said to the demon as he walked over to where Neji was waiting for him. _"But do you really have to ruin theirs as well?"_

"_Why yes, yes I do. It's like three for the price of one. How could I pass up a great deal like that?"_

"_Have you ever, even for a moment, thought of my life and my family as anything more than fodder for your sick amusements?"_ Gaara asked.

Shukaku's uproarious laughter was all the answer he needed. It's not like he had expected any differently.

"Good morning," Neji greeted him, completely oblivious to the demon currently laughing at Gaara's expense. Neji seemed at ease that morning, apparently not in the least perturbed at the way their date had ended.

"Hello," Gaara said. "You're… not mad at me?"

"Mad at you?" Neji shook his head. "I know of no reason to be."

"It's just, I know I was acting strangely on Saturday," Gaara said slowly.

"I knew you were strange the day that I met you," Neji said. "I've come to the conclusion that a little strangeness now and again is only to be expected from you. And that you'll tell me about it when you're ready."

That was a lot better than Gaara had had any right to expect. He knew it was silly to keep the recent memory a secret like this. After all, Neji had told him about the one he'd had, of the two of them in the Forest of Death. For all Gaara knew, it might even be the same memory. "I saw something. While we were…" he trailed off, then tried again. "It was a memory, of us. But it was so sudden, and I wasn't expecting to see… that sort of thing."

Neji smiled. "Déjà vu."

"What?"

"In the book you let me borrow, that's what they call it. Déjà vu." Neji dug through his backpack for a moment, retrieving the little library book and thumbing through it until he found the page he was looking for. He read over the passage briefly, nodding. "It says when you experience an event in this life that bears resemblance to one in the most recent previous life, either through action or emotion, it can trigger a spontaneous reliving of that memory. Though usually only in those very closely tied to that previous life. Which it seems that you are. I had suspected as much."

Gaara frowned. He didn't see how something as tame as kissing could have triggered such an extreme memory. But if Neji thought that was what had happened, it probably was.

Or possibly it was Shukaku's fault. He didn't see how that could be either, but it wouldn't take too much of a stretch of the imagination to blame the demon for this.

"_You're welcome,"_ said Shukaku.

"So there's a chance I'll get more of those?" Gaara asked. "Sudden memories out of nowhere like that?"

"It's possible," Neji said. "According to this, the more memories that are recovered, the easier it is to recover them. It doesn't sound much like an exact science, so I guess we'll just find out as we go along. I'd be interested in experimenting some more with it. You and Sasuke both exhibit extraordinary abilities that stem from connections to these previous lives. You have the sand, and he has the sharingan. If it is possible for me to reconnect with this byakugan ability I supposedly had, I'd like to give it a try."

The warning bell rang, and Neji glanced over at the school building, as all the other students on the lawn crowded around the main doors, making a rough queue to get inside.

"I guess it'll have to wait," Gaara said. "I'll see you in the greenhouse at lunch?" He made it a question, still feeling a little uncertain.

Neji nodded. "I'll be there. Here, I should give this back to you." He handed over the library book, which Gaara took and quickly stuffed into his backpack.

The two of them joined the congregation bottle-necked at the entrance. Gaara got caught up in the crowds, making a slow progression with the rest of the students. Neji of course slipped easily through the crowd, as if it wasn't even there, and was gone.

_.x.x.x._

Gaara had to make a detour past his locker before going to his first class. He'd resolved that beginning this week, he would have to actually pay attention to his studies. If he was going to be staying in this town (and he sincerely hoped that he would), then it wouldn't do to maintain the same deplorable grade point average he'd been harboring for the past several years. Good grades, at the very least, would reinforce his siblings' current hope that he was getting better. And getting better, of course, meant he'd be allowed to spend more time with Neji.

And so he loaded his backpack up with the books he would need for his first couple of classes. It made for a very heavy bag, with the books forced to share space with a load of sand, which didn't seem to appreciate much the crowding of its territory. It hissed and whined at him, but in the end was forced to accept the changes to its living conditions.

Paying attention in class took up the majority of his thoughts for the rest of the morning, leaving him little time to consider other things. Trying to get caught up after so long of habitual apathy made learning a difficult task. Shukaku made a few laughing comments in the beginning about the current sad state of Gaara's intelligence, but after a whole period of being ignored while Gaara devotedly copied down mathematical equations, the demon got bored and withdrew into its own thoughts. Gaara would have been relieved, had he even noticed.

He left his first period class feeling a little discouraged. Not a lot of what they'd talked about in there had made any sense. He had a basic grasp of standard mathematics, but once they got into the more complicated stuff, he was well and truly out of his depth. Maybe he could ask Neji to help him with it later.

The next two classes went a little better. Orochimaru-sensei seemed surprised when Gaara actually paid attention to his lecture. Gaara did his best, filling several pages in his notebook with notes, even though all the names and events meant nothing to him. By the end of the class, he was longing to go back to his book on the history of the hidden ninja villages. At least all of that _meant_ something to him.

When the bell rang ending second period, Orochimaru-sensei asked to speak with him a moment before he left.

"I'm impressed," the teacher commented after the rest of the students had emptied out of the room. "It really seemed like you were taking today's subject seriously. I take it you've gotten bored with ninjas and past lives already?"

"Not at all," Gaara said. "I thought you _wanted_ me to pay attention in class."

Orochimaru-sensei nodded. "Of course, that is what all teachers want of their students. But I think in your case, our other subject matter has a bit more… relevance to your life. I would hate to see you abandon it after you've made such progress." He opened one of his desk drawers, pulling out a slim book with a worn cover, clearly a book that had been well read and well loved in its time. "Here, I brought something for you and your friends. Your friend that was asking about the byakugan may find it particularly enlightening."

Gaara took the book from him, examining it. This one was titled, "Theories on Chakra and Basic Jutsu." It had the same author as his book on the Hidden Villages; O. Sannin.

"Will your Ninja Club be meeting with me after school today, then?" Orochimaru-sensei asked.

Gaara nodded slowly, not looking up from his study of the book. "Well, Neji and I will, I think. I don't know if Naruto is even here today."

"And Sasuke Uchiha?"

"I don't think he'll want to come," Gaara said, tucking the book into his backpack.

"A shame. I'm looking forward to speaking with him. I think there are quite a few things he and I have to talk about." Orochimaru-sensei glanced at the clock. "You ought to get going. Wouldn't want to be late to your next class."

Gaara nodded and took his leave to his next class, the prospect of which he wasn't particularly relishing. After all, he had what promised to be a fascinating subject tucked innocuously right next to his Chemistry textbook, and there was little doubt in his mind at to which he would rather be reading. But it would have to wait, though not for took much longer. Just one more class period to get through until he got a brief respite. And then he could turn his attention from the uselessness of Chemistry, to a subject of far greater importance.

_.x.x.x._

"I think we're going to be needing a new place to meet at lunch," Neji commented, looking around what currently passed as their adopted clubhouse.

Obviously, some effort had been made to clean up the greenhouse, suggesting that the Botany class was preparing to use it soon. The dust and grime had been swept off the floor, the empty pots stacked in a corner and the tools cleaned and arranged. All the plants that had died over the summer had been removed, and replaced with new young plants, still bright green with verdant life. The windows had all been cleaned, though imperfectly. The glass was no longer covered in grime; instead, it had the streaky, smeared look of a rushed washing.

Sasuke was already there waiting for them, having retrieved a container from its new place in the corner to use as a stool. "Where's Naruto?" he asked as Gaara and Neji similarly collected a couple of containers to sit on.

"I didn't think you liked him," Neji commented.

Sasuke scowled. "I don't. But he's usually here before you two."

"I think he's sick today," Gaara said. "He wasn't around this morning, either."

Sasuke shrugged it off, as if the subject of Naruto held no interest for him whatsoever. Maybe it didn't. He turned his attention to more pressing matters. "I want to take a look at those books of yours. No excuses today."

Gaara didn't have any objections. He knew Sasuke wasn't here out of any kind of interest in their companionship, or personal benevolence. The only reason he came to these meetings was to take a look at the books Gaara happened to have access to. And he probably had as much right to those books as anyone.

Gaara opened his backpack to get them. The sand spilled out in a wave, carrying the rest of the backpack contests with it, and dumping it in a heap on the newly cleaned floor before it retreated back into the bag. It seemed the sand really did take offense to the overcrowding.

Sasuke pushed away Gaara's textbooks, entirely uninterested in them. He picked up the book of the history of the Hidden Villages, as well as the library book on remembering past lives.

But when he reached for the most recent addition to Gaara's book collection, Gaara stopped him. "Not that one." Gaara retrieved the "Theories on Chakra and Basic Jutsu" book, dusting off its worn cover a little.

Neji looked with interest at the well-worn little book. "What's this one?"

Gaara handed it over to him for closer examination. "Orochimaru-sensei gave me that one today. I think it might have something relevant to the byakugan."

Neji accepted the book, clearly intrigued. Sasuke turned his attention to the other two books, seeming undecided on which to read first. He flipped through one, and then the other, reading snippets here and there, as if all the answers he was looking for would be laid out right there on any random page. In the end he set down the history book, to devote his full attention to the little library book. Neji was already absorbed in his own reading.

"_And little Gaara gets left out,"_ Shukaku snickered.

That may be, but Gaara didn't feel left out. He watched for a while as Neji read with obvious fascination. Gaara was looking forward to his chance at reading that one, too. It might explain a little more about the nature of the sand. Possibly even something that would help in controlling Shukaku.

"_I wouldn't make any bets on that one, if I were you,"_ the demon warned.

Sasuke's expression was not nearly so easy to read, but he too was intensely focused on his reading. And why wouldn't he be? Sasuke wanted answers as to why his brother had killed himself. He clearly believed those answers would be tied to whatever happened in his previous lifetime. Gaara didn't know what Sasuke intended to do with those answers once he had them, though. He had a suspicion that knowing the truth wasn't going to make it any more bearable for Sasuke. But he refrained from saying so. It wasn't any of his business.

"I want to try this," Sasuke announced. He looked up at the both of them, as if he were expecting one of them to tell him that he couldn't.

Neji looked up from his book, but didn't make the objection Sasuke seemed to be expecting. "It's hard to tell how long those trances will last on their own. Do you want us to wake you when lunch is over?"

Sasuke frowned, but finally nodded an acceptance of the help. He scooted his seat a little farther away, trying to make himself comfortable before attempting the steps that would, hopefully, lead him into a hypnotic trance and reveal to him his past self.

Neji smiled at Gaara. "Do you want to, as well? I could watch over the both of you."

Gaara hadn't really been intending to try it ever again. The memories were interesting of course, but he wasn't looking for anything in them, as Sasuke was. Gaara already had answers, though they were to questions he'd never really asked to begin with. He knew who he'd been, who he'd loved, how he'd died. What more did he need to know?

But he really didn't have anything better to do, and the few times he'd accessed memories through this method, they had been pleasant experiences. It might be worth it to try another time.

"_And just think,"_ Shukaku said, _"maybe I'll get to see the rest of that porn you so generously provided me the other day."_

"_Maybe I'll figure out how to shut you up for good,"_ Gaara thought back at the demon. Out loud, he answered Neji, "Yeah, I think I will."

He didn't need the book in order to try it; the steps were simple enough. And he'd already accessed that entranced state before; Neji had said that supposedly it got easier after the first few times. He made himself as comfortable as he could in the cramped little greenhouse, calming his breath and concentrating, waiting for the darkness, and the memories it hid.

_.x.x.x._

The Kazekage sat as his desk, making slow but steady progress through the mountain of paperwork that took up most of the surface. It still amazed him at times how many documents seemed to be required in running a village. He wondered if Naruto fully realized the level of bureaucracy he would be fully embroiled in, once he reached his coveted dream of becoming Hokage. On the days when he felt truly compassionate, Gaara considered warning him. In the end, though, Gaara never did, and probably never would. He didn't think Naruto would heed the advice, anyway.

And besides, it would be funny.

Gaara set down the pen, scowling at all the work that still remained. Any one of the villagers would tremble in terror under the murderous intent in that stare, but the stacks of paper remained defiantly unmoved. When the documents didn't obligingly burst into flames, Gaara transferred the glare to the clock.

It was still morning, though it felt like he had been working for longer than just a few hours. It had been a pretty typical day, so far. As Gaara still rarely did anything more than doze for hour or so every night, his days would begin pretty early. Around the time the sun rose, he'd woken Neji as he usually did with soft touches and kisses, which led quite pleasantly to their morning lovemaking. Gaara had yet to find a better method of beginning a day.

As much as Gaara would have preferred staying in bed with Neji all day, both of them had work to do. So it was always with some regret that the two of them finally separated and dressed, Neji leaving to go meet up with his team of genin for their daily training, and Gaara off to face the newest accumulation of paperwork.

Usually around noon, so long as Neji and his team weren't off on a mission, Gaara would track Neji down wherever he was so the two of them could have lunch together. The promise of getting a break to see Neji was usually the only thing that prevented Gaara from finally getting fed up with his work, and letting the sand shred all the official documents into tiny tattered confetti.

It was still too early to go seek Neji out, however. Lunch wouldn't be for another few hours. He really ought to get at least another dozen of these contracts looked over before he called for a respite…

From the gourd that sat in its customary place, propped up against one side of the desk, the sand let out a husky groan.

Gaara nodded. It was right, of course. He was the Kazekage; who would dare try and stop him if he decided to take lunch early?

Just as he had stood and slung the gourd onto his back, there was a knock on his office door. The sand hissed its irritation, and Gaara privately agreed; at the time of day, most likely it was someone trying to foist more paperwork off on him. Gaara prepared one of his best glares for whoever would dare try to curtail his escape, the kind of glare that promised that the body would never be found.

The door opened, but it turned out not someone delivering another stack of documents. The sand calmed a bit of its ire when Gaara saw who his visitor was. Kankuro stepped into the room, carrying a large box wrapped in brown paper.

"Hey Gaara. Going to lunch early?" Kankuro asked him.

"That obvious?" Gaara said.

"Pretty much. Also, you've done the same thing every day for the past week. By now, everyone in the village knows where you'd rather be than here. And who you'd rather be with." Kankuro held out the box he carried to Gaara. "Here. You've got a package."

Gaara took the box, examining the brown paper it was wrapped in. It had his name on it, but no indication on who it was from. That didn't bother him, much; whatever was inside couldn't be dangerous. All mail was inspected for bombs or traps before it ever reached the office of the Kazekage. This was a ninja village, after all. Still, Gaara rarely got personal mail, and even less often did someone send him a package like this.

Gaara pushed some of the paperwork to the side of his desk to make room to set down the box. After a brief moment of contemplating its origins, he tore off the paper and opened the box to take a look at its contents.

At first glance, the box appeared to be filled with torn confetti. After a second, Gaara realized that it was not confetti at all, but a large quantity of photos, most of them torn into tiny shreds. Some of the photos weren't as torn, only crumpled, and Gaara picked a few of these out to examine. Smoothing them out a little, he realized what it was he held. Every picture he looked at was of Neji. Some of the pictures were mutilated further; scorched or scribbled on, so that the features weren't always distinct, but Gaara could tell who was pictured.

From beneath the multitude of destroyed photos, Gaara unearthed a few other items. There were letters, mostly scorched now, though on what remained, Gaara recognized Neji's handwriting, addressing them to friends and family in Konoha. There were the broken remains of a cup, the design of which was standard of one of Neji's favorite restaurants. There were shreds of old bandages, stiff in some places from very old, dried blood. And lastly, on the bottom of the box, Gaara retrieved a long braid of hair. Neji's hair.

Gaara's grip tightened around the braid, rage simmering inside of him. He had little doubt as to who had obsessively assembled this collection. The one that had attempted to permanently blind Neji, had cut Neji's hair and tried to keep him for his own. It had been months ago, months since Gaara had crushed the life out of the man and buried his body where not even the buzzards could pick at it, but still his hatred for Tashimura had not waned.

But Tashimura _was_ dead. Gaara was certain of that. So who had sent Gaara the remains of his mangled collection? Did someone want revenge on Gaara having killed Neji's stalker? Gaara could only think of one person that might. The one person that had aided in Tashimura's madness, had conspired to take Neji away from Gaara; Shiten.

Shiten had disappeared after Gaara had killed Tashimura. Searches had turned up no trace of the man. Gaara had finally been forced to assume that Shiten had made the wise decision to put as much distance between himself and Suna as possible, and hope that he never came back.

It seemed, however, that Shiten had only been biding his time until Gaara let his guard down.

It took Gaara a moment to realize that Kankuro was still in the room. Kankuro had moved over to Gaara's side, and was examining the contents of box with distaste.

"What is all this stuff?" Kankuro asked. "Looks like a lot of garbage. Creepy garbage."

Gaara didn't answer him, didn't give another glance at the remains of a futile obsession, and stalked from the room. If Shiten really was after revenge, that package was a declaration of war. Gaara was the one to kill Tashimura, and it was fine with him if Shiten had targeted him for his vengeance. Gaara would welcome the chance to crush anyone that had a hand in Neji's suffering. But Neji had been the sole focus of Tashimura's obsession. Shiten might blame him as well for Tashimura's death.

And if that were the case, that package was a warning that may have come too late.

_.x.x.x._

"Gaara? Are you okay?"

Gaara opened his eyes, a little disoriented. The dream memory faded slowly, and reality came into focus around him. The greenhouse. The smell of dirt and growing things. Neji watching him with a concerned, expectant expression.

"Your sand was making some odd noises," Neji told him. "I thought it might be best to wake you. Bad memory?"

Gaara just nodded. So Tashimura had been after Neji in his previous life, as well. Had wanted him, had _hurt _him. And even when Gaara had killed Tashimura, it hadn't been over. Shiten was in on it too. Shiten had wanted revenge. How much should he tell Neji of this? Gaara didn't like the Tashimura of this lifetime, but was the teacher still capable of the things he'd done in his past incarnation? Was the Shiten of this reality someone to be trusted, or would he side with Tashimura if challenged? The only thing he was certain of, was that this reinforced Gaara's resolve to keep Neji safe.

"I need some time," Gaara murmured, "to think about this." He wasn't sure if he was telling Neji or himself, but Neji nodded, accepting Gaara's proclamation. Gaara was grateful. Neji would wait until Gaara was ready to tell him.

Neji turned to the other present member of their club. Sasuke was so still, it was hard to tell if he was even breathing. His face bore no emotion, none of the anger or aggravation he usually exhibited. Whatever he was seeing, he was so deeply inside his own psyche, it seemed as though he was all but immune to the world around him.

But when Neji reached out to rouse him, Sasuke's whole body jolted at the barest touch, his hand snapping out to capture Neji's wrist in reflex. Sasuke stared at him with wide eyes for a long moment, his breathing suddenly heavy. He pushed Neji away then, scooting a little farther into the corner, as though trying to distance himself as much as possible from them, and perhaps, from what he'd remembered.

"What did you see?" Neji asked, his voice calming, gentling.

Sasuke shook his head, closing his eyes tightly. "I was… tracking him. Hunting him like an animal. Never wavering, never giving up. He was… prey."

"Who?" Gaara asked.

Sasuke seemed not to hear. "And when I caught him… I was going to kill him."

"_Who_ were you going to kill?" Gaara asked again.

Sasuke looked at him, looking like a cornered animal, himself. "Naruto."

The sound of the school bell was loud in the sudden silence of the greenhouse.

Sasuke scrambled to his feet. He said nothing to the other two, pushing past them and out the door before either of them could stop him. Not that either of them tried.

"Curiouser and curiouser," Neji murmured. "I guess we won't be hearing the whole story about that one. At least not until he comes back."

"What makes you think he will?"

"Just a guess. But he left the books." Neji nodded in indication of the books left in the corner. "Unless he's given up on the answers he's been seeking, he'll have to come back eventually. And I think he will." He stood, dusting off his uniform a little bit. "As for the two of us, we ought to be getting to class."

Gaara nodded slowly, gathering up the books scattered across the floor. It made for a heavy armload, but he didn't think the sand would be willing to accommodate them in the backpack again. "Will you be coming to talk with Orochimaru-sensei after school today?"

"I think I will," Neji said. "That little book on chakra theory has some interesting points, but I think there are a few things it doesn't explain in much detail. I would like to hear his thoughts on them." He smiled at Gaara. "I'll see you then." He kissed Gaara then, the softest kiss, only the briefest but sweetest meeting of the lips. And then he left, returning to the school building. Gaara was suspended in a half-second daze of bemusement, before hurrying into the school building as well.

Gaara would have to make a side trip to his locker before heading to class. All the textbooks in his arms were too heavy to carry around for long. He wouldn't need them for his last few classes anyway, and so it would be easier just to drop them off.

It took a lot longer than he would have liked to shoulder his way through the crowds of people on their way to classes, and required some careful manipulations to hold onto the stack of books and still twirl the lock on his locker through the combination. At last the lock clicked and he pulled the locker door open. A scrap of paper from inside fell to the ground when he did. He pushed the books into a decent pile in the locker, and snatched up the curious little paper up from where it had fallen.

The paper turned out to be a photograph. It wasn't the greatest quality, and the lighting wasn't very good. But Gaara recognized the scene it depicted immediately.

Himself and Neji. Standing under the streetlight. Kissing. Streamers of sand floating around them like so many ribbons.

Scrawled on the photograph in black permanent marker was a single word:

"DIE."


	17. Forensics

The hallway around Gaara was emptying, and he barely noticed. The bell signaling the beginning of fourth period rang, and he paid little heed to that, either. His attention was solely focused on the photo he held in his hands. He stared at it as though memorizing its every detail, as though he had to convince himself that it really existed. As if that one grainy picture would offer up some secret clue as to who left it in his locker, and why.

It wasn't that he'd been caught kissing Neji that bothered him. Though he didn't know what Neji felt about the matter, personally Gaara didn't care who knew that Neji was his boyfriend. It wasn't as though anyone's closed-minded prejudices could hurt him, and should their homophobia escalate to something more violent, it would not be Gaara that limped away from the battle in defeat. While it annoyed him that someone had gotten close enough unnoticed to photograph them at such a moment, it was something else that was cause for his concern.

Though the photo was poor enough quality that it was hard to make out the exact details, the ribbons of sand that surrounded the two in the picture were clear enough for anyone to see. Some stranger had seen the sand moving on its own, acting in direct defiance of all the accepted laws of reality. Perhaps with the darkness and graininess of the picture, it could be mistaken for something else. A trick of the light, perhaps, or photo manipulation. It didn't matter if it was too indistinct to be used as concrete proof; whoever had taken this picture wasn't interested in exposing Gaara's secret, at least not yet, it seemed. They just wanted Gaara to know that _they_ knew.

And that they hated him.

Gaara focused on the one word that had been written on the picture. _Die._ Someone wanted Gaara dead. Being hated was nothing new to Gaara. He'd hurt a lot of people in the course of his life, most of them children his own age. There were a lot of people who hated him for what he'd done to their family and friends, who would have tried to hurt him if Gaara and his family had not moved away shortly after each incident occurred. Gaara accepted their hatred of him as his due; none of them knew that he'd never wanted to hurt anyone.

Would it have mattered, even if they had known? Somewhere in the world, there was a boy half blind because of him, a girl with severe burn scars all over her arms. Someone's son would have to take his meals through a feeding tube, and someone's daughter might have suffered some permanent brain damage. And so many others, others that Gaara could hardly bear to think of. All causalities in Gaara's private war with the demon in his head. Lives ruined merely from having met him.

So no, Gaara didn't blame anyone for hating him. In all of those cases, he'd deserved it. But he hadn't thought anyone in this new city knew anything about all of the terrible things he'd done before. And for the life of him, he couldn't think of anything he'd done _here_ yet that would earn him someone's hatred. He'd been doing so well, so far. It just didn't seem fair.

Gaara was briefly dizzy. The photograph fell unheeded from suddenly nerveless fingers. For the second time, a memory began to surface unexpectedly and unasked for. He felt momentarily suspended between the two realities, as the actuality of the present warred with flickering images from a past life. Though physical senses rooted him firmly in the empty hallway of the high school, flashes of imagery and emotion threatened to consume his consciousness, to draw his mind back into another lifetime entirely.

It lasted but a moment, and it was nowhere near so clear as the impromptu memory he'd gotten just the other day. Scenes blurred in and out faster than he could truly grasp them. He got a vague sense of wind and moonlight, and something sinister lurking there in the shadows, watching him and waiting to strike. But more than what he saw, was what he felt- confusion, terror, and the sharp budding of rage. And just before the true reality won over the invading memories, Gaara heard a voice. A young boy begging, demanding to know, in fear and in fury; "Why me? Why is it _always me?_"

And then the past was gone, the world came back into focus around him. He stood staring down the empty hallway, confirming to himself that he really was where he thought he was. When the world didn't vanish, he slowly relaxed.

He was _really_ starting to hate these sudden memory visions.

"_What the hell was that?"_ he finally demanded.

"_That's your life, blockhead. Or it was, before the whole getting killed and reincarnating bit. Duh,"_ Shukaku informed him unhelpfully. _"Would have thought you'd be used to it by now. It was _your_ idea to dig up the dirt on your past self, after all. If you don't like what you get, this is one thing you can't blame on me."_

It probably wouldn't do any good to point out that wasn't what he'd meant. Gaara knew very well that though they felt real at the time, those brief scenes he'd relived without warning had happened long ago, to some other incarnation of himself. But what he'd just seen and felt was so fragmented, he could barely make sense of it. _"I couldn't tell what was going on. There was… a little boy… I think he was in pain."_

"_That'd be you, would be my guess,"_ the demon said.

"_You'd guess? Couldn't you tell?"_ Gaara said. _"And if it was me, you'd have been there too, right? Wouldn't you remember?"_

"_That happened a long time ago, let me remind you, and there's that whole 'being dead' thing to help muddy the waters of memory further,"_ said Shukaku. _"I barely recall any more than you do about what happened back in that lifetime. So don't start getting all whiny at me for not having all your answers wrapped up in a neat little package for you."_

Gaara frowned. _"What's with you?" _It wasn't as though Shukaku was usually so polite and friendly with Gaara, but the demon was starting to sound awfully petulant. Maybe there was something more to that faded memory that Gaara hadn't picked up on.

But if there was, the demon wasn't about to admit it. _"You ask stupid questions,"_ was all Shukaku would say on the matter. And then the demon uncharacteristically fell silent, leaving Gaara to wonder what the annoying creature was hiding from him.

And what did he care what the demon was thinking, anyway? That brief glimpse of memory was shattered beyond recovery, anyway; he would probably never know exactly what it depicted. And if that boy's voice has indeed been his- so full of anguish and wrath- then maybe he didn't want to know what his subconscious had been trying to show him, anyway. Maybe some things really were better off forgotten.

He picked up the fallen picture, casting one last cursory glance at it. He didn't know what he should do with it. Should he destroy it? He might as well; it's not as though he needed any tangible reminders of someone's hatred for him. He stuffed the photograph into his backpack, and the sand shredded it. Gaara stared at the remains for a long while; just the tiniest tatters of paper floating amidst the sand were any indication that it had existed at all. And he felt a little bit better.

"_That won't be the end of it,"_ Shukaku commented. _"I doubt that was the original. And there may be more to come."_

Gaara sifted his fingers through the sand, until even those tiny shreds of the photo were buried and gone. The sand hummed softly under his touch. Shukaku was right; there may be more of those photos surfacing. Not only had someone gotten close enough unnoticed to take that picture, but they clearly knew exactly which locker to put it in. Either they had followed him to his locker when he'd picked up his books that morning…

…or they had access to his school file. A teacher, perhaps?

"_And I know one in particular that has more than enough reason to hate you,"_ Shukaku said. _"Told you we should have killed him."_

"_You think Tashimura did this?"_ Gaara asked.

"_Here's a better question; you think Tashimura _didn't_ do this?" _Shukaku said. _"He could have followed the both of you from the restaurant. He obviously despises you for taking Neji from him-"_

"_Neji was never his to begin with!"_

"_While true, that's not the point. He clearly thinks otherwise, and sees you as an interloper. A threat to all his grand delusions. Where I'm from, there's only one rule governing situations like this; kill or be killed," _the demon said with solemn finality.

"_You can't even _remember_ where you're from,"_ Gaara pointed out.

Shukaku huffed irritably. _"You just have to ruin my grand proclamations with your damned _logic_, don't you?"_

"_Somebody has to,"_ Gaara agreed. _"And anyway; even if Tashimura did do this, I don't have any proof it was him. There's nothing I can do about it."_

"_You could kill him,"_ Shukaku pointed out with eager helpfulness. _"So many things would be solved by a single application of a sledgehammer to his skull."_

"_And this would be the part where I tell you to shut the hell up,"_ Gaara told the demon.

Shukaku was silent long enough that Gaara thought the demon had, for once, willingly acquiesced to his demand for silence. But the moment was short lived, as Shukaku chose that moment to offer a grim warning. _"You can't stop me, you know,"_ the demon said. _"You really think I need you to wield the weapon for me now, if I decide someone needs to die?"_

"_Of course you do,"_ Gaara argued, though Shukaku's words made him feel a little less sure of himself. _"You've always needed me to do the dirty work for you."_

"_That was before." _Accompanying the demon's words was a soft hissing, a shifting from the sands as they drew out of the backpack. The granular mass hovered freely in the air in front of Gaara, and as he watched, they began to take shape. The amorphous mass shifted fluidly through forms; a hammer, a spear, a hangman's noose. _"Now we have the sand. And do you think it distinguishes my chakra from yours? I am a demon of the sand. It obeys you only at my sufferance. So believe me when I say; the next time we see Tashimura, he will die. By your hand, or by mine."_

_.x.x.x._

Gaara was very late to fourth period. He didn't even bother trying to make up an excuse for the teacher, not even glancing at them as he went to take his seat. They said something to him- he wasn't listening. Several of the students around him snickered over his lack of response, some of them whispering that he must be on drugs. The sand bristled and hissed from within his backpack at them, until he laid a hand on the bag, willing it to settle down. It obediently quieted at the silent command.

Class resumed where it had left off before his arrival had interrupted its progress, but Gaara might as well have not been there for all he heard the proceedings. All his thoughts currently centered around Shukaku's little power display in the hall. He looked down at where he'd set his backpack on the floor, and after a moment's hesitation, he unzipped the bag and reached a hand in. The sand purred, swarming gently around his fingers in its own display of affection. It seemed like nothing so much as a rather oddly formed but nonetheless innocent, friendly pet.

Gaara withdrew his hand quickly. As nice as it seemed, it was nowhere near innocent. Not if it was Shukaku's tool, Shukaku's weapon to maim with and massacre as he pleased. How could Gaara have been so stupid as to expect something so unnatural as the sand to obey _him_, in favor of Shukaku, a creature as unnatural as it was? How could Gaara even compete with a demon?

From the backpack, the sand made a softly curious, beseeching noise.

Gaara glanced at it, contemplating. From what he'd read in his book on the history of the hidden villages, the child he had been in his past life had been just shy of evil; a hateful, murdering monster. Gaara could only guess that had been Shukaku's influence on an impressionable kid. It had worked pretty much the same in this life, as well. But at one point in that past life, the terrorizing and violence had stopped. And that couldn't have been because Shukaku had gotten bored. So somehow, Gaara had managed to win out over the demon, and somehow keep Shukaku from taking control of the sand back by force. So there had to be a _way._ Gaara just had to find it.

Couldn't be that hard, right?

"_It is so cute that you think so,"_ Shukaku commented with smug condescension. _"Wrong, of course, but cute."_

But of course Shukaku would say he was wrong. If there were a way to take sole control over the sand, or block Shukaku out of his thoughts completely, the demon would assuredly try to keep Gaara from knowing about it. So maybe there was something more his past life memories could teach him, after all.

He settled back in his seat, prepared to patiently wait out the rest of the school day. At which point, he'd get his chance to find out.

_.x.x.x._

His patience lasted for approximately half an hour. By the time the bell rang to end fourth period, Gaara was long past ready to have the day be over. Unfortunately, he still had two classes left to attend, before he'd be able to meet up with Neji and Orochimaru-sensei for the after school meeting of the Ninja Club. Worse yet, his fifth period class was gym with Shiten-sensei.

It was going to be awkward seeing that particular teacher. Mostly because Shukaku had sworn not two hours ago that at the first opportunity, they would be killing Shiten-sensei's boyfriend. But Gaara wondered just how much he could trust Shiten-sensei, as well. He had been with Tashimura at the restaurant the other day. Had Shiten-sensei been with Tashimura when that photograph was taken? Or had Shiten-sensei been the one to take the photo? After the memory of the past Gaara had recovered, he knew now that Shiten had been involved with something dangerous in that prior lifetime, something that had hurt Neji. And he had been after revenge on Gaara for killing Tashimura's former incarnation. Obviously, Gaara and Shiten had been on opposite sides in that lifetime. Would they be enemies again in this life, or allies?

Gaara considered the matter as he changed into his gym clothes in the boy's locker room. He still intended to participate in the class, despite his misgivings. Once he was dressed for class, he folded his uniform and stowed it in his gym locker. But when he tried to add in his backpack, the sand let out a low, mournful whine.

"_Can't leave it behind," _Shukaku pointed out. _"Listen to that whimper. How can you say no to that?"_

"_I can't take it out there!" _Gaara said. _"We're not supposed to take our bags out into the gym. It's just one class period. I'll be back for it when class is over."_

"_If you leave it behind, it'll just follow you. Try to explain a swarm of flying sand to your teacher!"_

Gaara scowled at the innocuous bag in the locker, hiding one of his secrets within it. _"How about I just take some of it?" _That seemed like a good compromise. He didn't know where he'd hide it, but if he only brought a little, maybe nobody would notice it.

The sand seemed to agree with his suggestion, and found its own place to hide, as well. A small amount of sand leaked out of the bag, doing a happy little twirl, before slipping in to share some of the space inside Gaara's left shoe.

"_Wonderful,"_ Gaara thought wryly as he stood, feeling the sand crowding around his foot. Nothing like a granular mass sloshing around his sneaker to make him appreciate the concept of sandals. _"This isn't very comfortable."_

"_Look on the bright side,"_ Shukaku advised. _"It could have attempted to hide in your underwear. Think about it; all that grit, rubbing against sensitive areas? Come to think of it, it's got some interesting possibilities."_

Gaara suppressed a shudder, closing his locker and leaving the locker room. He was still very aware of the sand in his shoe, but he wasn't about to complain about it now.

That day's class would be a continuation of the archery lesson they'd begun the week before. The students had all learned the basics of the bow and arrow, and now it was timed to practice their aim. Shiten-sensei gave everyone a refresher lecture on the safety rules, before allowing everyone to get their equipment and begin.

Unlike the others, Gaara had not participated in the class when they'd started this lesson the previous week. From what he'd seen, it was hard for any of them to doing very well with aiming to begin with. Today, most of them weren't doing much better. The arrows flew, but most of them missed the target completely. The ones that hit only caught the outer edges, often glancing off and falling away. A number of arrows lost velocity and clattered to the floor before ever reaching the far end of the gym.

Gaara watched the others' attempts for a while, before nocking the arrow. He held the bow as he saw the others doing, drawing back the taut bowstring. As he did so, he felt something from his left shoe. The sand was moving, and the tiniest amount of it, the grain particles all but invisible to the eye if one didn't know what to look for, drifted up to hover around the arrow. Gaara released the bowstring, and the arrow flew.

It cleared the length of the gym easily, striking and imbedding deep into the dead center of the target.

A lot of the chatter came to an abrupt halt, as the students stared at the perfect shot Gaara had made. Gaara didn't even look at them, fitting another arrow to the bow. With the help of a few more miniscule sand grains, this arrow flew as straight and true as its companion, hitting the target right beside Gaara's first shot.

All the students were taking notice now, some of them even applauding when his arrows hit the target. Gaara put on the show of aiming the bow, and the sand took his every arrow exactly where he wanted it. Everyone was too busy watching his seemingly perfect aim to really notice that he hardly seemed to be putting any effort into it. He shot one arrow after another, none of them missing the target. When at last he ran out of arrows, he lowered the bow and turned to the teacher, giving Shiten-sensei a long, challenging stare.

Shiten-sensei wasn't looking at him, however; he was studying the tight grouping of Gaara's arrows protruding from the target like so many quills. "I'm impressed," Shiten-sensei admitted, giving Gaara an appraising look. "Ever considered joining the after school archery club?"

"No thanks," Gaara said. "I'm already in a club."

_.x.x.x._

Gaara's last class of the day seemed to last forever. He tried doodling in his notebook to pass the time, but even that got old after not too long. He ended up merely tapping the pencil against the page, glancing at the clock every few minutes, irritated that time didn't seem to be going fast enough to appease him. His teacher at one point approached and tried to talk with him, but Gaara's sharp glare had them scurrying away on the pretense of helping another student. Gaara resumed his vigilant watch on the clock.

At last, the bell rang to free him from the school's drudgery. Gaara grabbed his backpack and hurried for the door. Unfortunately, so had everyone else, and Gaara's progress was halted almost immediately by the crush of too many people trying to get out the door at once. And of course, the hallway had clogged immediately, and so Gaara was forced to make the slow trek through the crowds on his way to Orochimaru-sensei's classroom.

He paused briefly as he passed by his locker, wondering whether he ought to look inside it before continuing on. There might be another photo waiting for him in there. Or something worse. In the end, he bypassed it. If he started compulsively checking his locker contents every time he passed by, it might be just what his apparent stalker wanted. To drive him slowly crazy.

"_Well he can forget it. If anyone's going to drive you crazy, it'll be ME, understand?"_ Shukaku announced.

"_Nobody is going to drive me crazy,"_ Gaara countered. _"You already had your chance this time around, and you failed. You can try again in my next life."_

"_And I will, too."_

Gaara had little doubt that that was a promise Shukaku intended to keep. But it hardly mattered at the moment. He still had to get through _this_ life in one piece, first.

Finally the halls seemed to clear out a little bit, most of the students having completed their mad dash to freedom. As the traffic lightened, so did Gaara's mood, somewhat. He didn't know how much assistance Orochimaru-sensei or his books could offer for Gaara's current predicament, but still the hope was there that something would help. And so he walked into Orochimaru-sensei's classroom with a touch of eagerness.

He stopped up short when he immediately realized that Orochimaru-sensei had company. Three boys were already in the classroom, and Gaara had clearly interrupted the discussion they had been having with the teacher. The three of them all looked over at Gaara as he walked into the room, and the three stares he was greeted with bore identical looks of disdain and hostility.

Orochimaru-sensei cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the three students he had been talking with. "As I said, I am sorry I couldn't be more help to you boys…"

"You've been more than enough help, sensei," one of the boys said, his tone civil but barely so. The boy had scruffy red-brown hair, and a cold look in his eyes. He cast another dark glare at Gaara, then ignored him completely, gesturing to his companions. "Come on. I think it's time we left."

The three of them headed for the door, brushing past Gaara without a single look, as if by unspoken agreement, they had decided he didn't exist. Gaara watched them leave, and when the door had closed behind them, he looked to Orochimaru-sensei. "Who were they?"

"One of them, Soujishi, is in my fourth period history class. The other two, I assume, are his friends. He didn't introduce them. Soujishi had a few history questions for me. I'm not sure he'll find the answers helpful, though," Orochimaru-sensei said with a shrug.

Gaara nodded and let the subject go, though his thoughts lingered briefly on the three boys. He was sure he'd never met any of them, but they sure had glared at him when he'd come in. Then again, the three of them might just be antisocial. He moved farther into the room, setting down his backpack on an empty chair. He unzipped the bag, so the sand would have some freedom of movement.

The door opened again, and Neji stepped into the room. Gaara smiled at seeing him. Just having Neji here made him feel better. And better still when Neji returned the smile, moving over and choosing a seat next to Gaara.

Orochimaru-sensei smiled at the two of them, then asked, "Will Sasuke Uchiha be joining us, as well?"

"No," Gaara said. "He won't be."

"Such a shame," Orochimaru-sensei said, shaking his head. "Perhaps tomorrow, then."

Privately, Gaara didn't think Sasuke would be showing up to their Ninja Club meetings tomorrow or ever. After the way Sasuke had reacted to recovering a past life memory at lunch, he might not be coming to see any of them anymore. But he didn't say so aloud. What he did say was, "So what are we doing today?"

"Well, I have been thinking about it. On Friday, we spoke about a few of the special techniques and abilities you boys had in your past lives, some of which a few of you have recovered the use of. Like Sasuke's sharingan, and your control over the sand, Gaara," Orochimaru-sensei said.

"_So long as you remember who _really_ has control over the sand, Gaara,"_ Shukaku whispered insidiously.

"So," Orochimaru-sensei continued, "over the weekend, I reread all of my books concerning the nature of chakra, jutsu, and these special inherited techniques. One of these books, I've given you to look at. As you may have noticed, there is a lot of theory about the working of these abilities, but not a lot on how exactly to tap into these powers."

"A lot of the descriptions were noticeably vague," Neji admitted. "As though the author had seen the techniques performed, but never actually done one himself."

"Exactly so," Orochimaru-sensei said. "So as you can see, while the books are a good starting point for understanding the theory, what is actually needed is a little first hand experience."

"Do you know anyone who has attempted these jutsus, that would be capable of teaching them to us?" Neji asked skeptically.

"No indeed. But you two do."

Neji and Gaara just looked at him.

"Or rather, you did," Orochimaru-sensei said. "In your past life, these abilities must have been taught to you. To learn them would have required lessons, training, perfecting a technique You would have both had teachers."

"But they're dead now," Gaara said.

"True. Even if they'd reincarnated, they would presumably remember no more of these abilities than you two do now," the teacher said. "But both of you have been practicing in recovering your past memories. If you were to look into the memories of your past incarnation, specifically searching for the moments that you were taught these techniques, you would relearn the abilities by reliving the training."

"We haven't tried looking for specific memories before," Gaara said, uncertain. He wouldn't even begin to guess how to go about it.

"I considered that too," Orochimaru-sensei said. "There are no more than a few dozen books in existence detailing the legends of the Hidden Villages, and as far as I know, I have a copy of every one of them. But there are hundreds, thousands of books about metaphysics, specifically dealing with the mind, its limitations, and how to exceed them. Almost every culture in the world believes in some form of meditation. I believe that if we try combining a few of these techniques with the crude hypnosis you two have been practicing, we may be able to direct these memory trips to certain points in your past lives."

"And… you know how to do that?" Neji asked.

Orochimaru-sensei smiled. "I have absolutely no idea. It is, at this stage, merely a theory. That's what our experimentations will set out to prove, of course. Or disprove, if the case may be." He began opening the drawers of his desk, removing a great number of items. Mostly books, several of them detailing a wide array of meditation and hypnosis techniques. They were quite a bit thicker than the slim little paperback Gaara had picked up from the library. Orochimaru-sensei began a second stack of books, these all focusing on chakra and jutsu practices. Glancing over them, Gaara noticed that all of these books had the same author; O. Sannin.

And lastly, Orochimaru-sensei brought out a number of candles and incense burners. These, Neji examined with an obvious look of skepticism. "What are these for?"

"The experiments," Orochimaru-sensei said. "What we are conducting is a scientific experiment. However, from what I've read on both chakra and meditation techniques, this form of 'science' strays very close to, and occasionally over the line of what many would deem as 'magic.' And so, I believe a combination of both must be employed." At Neji's continuing dubious look, Orochimaru-sensei added, "Incense and mystical chants may add nothing to our efforts today, but in any case, they won't hurt anything. Think of them as an aid to further your relaxation. If the mind is perfectly at ease, it may be directed easier."

The teacher set a small portable stereo on top of his desk amid the rest of the clutter, and plugged it in. He queued up the CD, and the small speakers began to emit a soft, pleasant music, easy to listen to but not particularly original, the kind that would play on an elevator, or to relax people into sleep. Orochimaru-sensei lit the candles and incense, and the classroom was soon filled with an almost cloying fragrance, vaguely herbal.

"And of course, to put your minds at ease, your body must be equally relaxed. You don't have to sit cross-legged on the floor if you don't want to, but you'll want to find the most comfortable position you can," Orochimaru-sensei said.

Both Neji and Gaara decided that the classroom seats would do just fine for their purpose. The seats were made of hard plastic, but once they found a proper position, it was not too hard to relax. Gaara wasn't sure about all this ceremony Orochimaru-sensei was putting into it; he and Neji had both recovered memories before without the aid of music or incense. And the fragrance was giving his thoughts a heavy, blurred feeling, anyway.

"You'll want to close your eyes, and concentrate on your breathing. Deepen your breaths, but take them as slowly as you can," Orochimaru-sensei continued.

The music had changed, from the simple elevator music, to what sounded like an old monastery chant. The words were deep and slow, but Gaara couldn't make out the particular language. As he listened to the music, he felt as though his heart thrummed in time to the low, even rhythm.

"I want you both to concentrate on what you're hoping to learn," Orochimaru-sensei's voice drifted in among the haze that was forming in Gaara's thoughts. "Take your mind back to the beginning, to when you first learned your techniques. To the beginning, that made you who you were."

That was the last Gaara heard, before the haze engulfed him completely.

_.x.x.x._

It was nearing midnight in Suna, but a young boy named Gaara couldn't sleep. He'd always had trouble sleeping, for as long as he could remember. Every time he tried, it was as though there were something lurking right behind his thoughts, waiting. Sometimes he felt as though if he closed his eyes or relaxed for too long, the lurking thing would get free and hurt him. It was one of the many things he didn't understand about himself. Sometimes he wondered if other people could feel the lurking thing too. Maybe that was why nobody liked him.

That was another thing Gaara never understood, no matter how hard he set his child's mind to unraveling the mystery. There were so many people in the Village of Sand, and they all had friends and loved ones. Except for Gaara. Gaara was the only one that was different.

He did have a sister and a brother, he knew. He didn't see them very often; they lived in a different house than him. A long time ago, they'd been brought over to see him. He'd been so happy, and they'd spent the whole day together. His sister Temari had told stories, and Kankuro had made funny faces and acted them out to make Gaara laugh. At the end of the day, they'd had to go home, but they'd promised to come back the next day to play again.

And they had come back the next day, but not to play. Gaara could tell immediately that something had changed. Kankuro fidgeted, visibly nervous. He kept looking at Gaara as though his younger brother might change into one of the monsters from Temari's stories. He'd hung back, but Temari had come forward.

"We can't stay," she'd told Gaara. "Kankuro and I are going to be very busy. We're going to be training to be ninja."

Gaara had brightened at the mention. There were lots of ninja in the village, and everyone liked them a lot. "I want to be a ninja too."

"You can't," Kankuro scoffed, the nervous look fading. "You're too _little._"

Gaara had pouted at his older brother. "I'll get bigger."

Temari had smiled at him, giving him a quick hug. "Yes, you will. Tell you what; when you're older, you can be a ninja with us. We'll be a team, the three of us."

"Promise?" Gaara demanded.

"I promise," Temari had said. "We'll be the best ninja ever. Here; I've got a present for you." She'd given Gaara a teddy bear. "I fixed his arm for you, see? But don't pull on it too hard this time, or the stitches will come out."

Gaara took the bear from her, holding it tightly. "I'll be careful. Will you come back and play tomorrow?"

Temari had nodded. "Of course we will."

They didn't come back the next day, or the day after that. It was several months before Gaara saw either of them, and when he finally did, the change he had noticed had gotten so much worse. Both of his siblings looked at him with fear in their eyes, and neither of them wanted to play. All Gaara had to prove his siblings had once ever even liked him was the teddy bear. It was still in good condition; he'd kept his promise to be careful with it. But Temari never praised him for being so good. Once again, Gaara was alone.

He always felt alone, even when there were many people around him. He'd had many caretakers over the years. They told him they were there to take care of him. This seemed to mean that they had to watch him a lot. One of them was always around, watching him, but they would rarely come close to him, and none of them wanted to play either. Not that Gaara often asked. All of them always looked at him like they thought he'd done something bad. Gaara always tried to be on his best behavior, but it never seemed to be enough to make them smile at him.

It was because of the sand, he'd finally decided. Nobody seemed to like the sand. Gaara couldn't figure that one out, either; the sand was nice. It made sure nothing hurt him, and it was useful for reaching things in high places. He didn't really know where it came from, but it was always there. He supposed if he did have a friend, it would be the sand.

But it scared the other kids, and they didn't want to play with Gaara. Some of the kids had been playing earlier that day, and when their ball had gotten stuck atop a high wall, Gaara had the sand get it down for them. He'd hoped that if he showed them that he and the sand were nice, they'd invite him to join their game. But they'd gotten scared, and had run from him, screaming.

That had brought the hurt back. More and more recently, he'd noticed the hurt. It was deep inside himself, where he couldn't see it, but it was awful. It was like there was a hole in his heart, and every time that someone looked at him with that fear, or ran from him, or said those bad things, the hole just got bigger. It frightened him.

He'd panicked, when the other kids had run from him. Gaara had begged them to wait, to come back, but they wouldn't listen. But the sand had made them stop, had dragged them back. Still they struggled, and still they looked at him with all that fear. He wanted to make them _stop_ looking at him like that. And he'd wanted to _punish _them…

Gaara grimaced at the memory. Yashamaru had made him stop. Yashamaru was the brother of Gaara's deceased mother, and Gaara's newest caretaker. Gaara liked him, because Yashamaru was different than the others. He didn't look at Gaara with fear. There was… sadness in his eyes, though. Gaara didn't understand that, but he didn't ask about it. Grownups often didn't like it when he asked them questions like that.

The sand pulled up at the last minute when Yashamaru ran between it and the other kids, but it was too late to halt the blow completely. Yashamaru had gotten hurt; the sand had made him bleed. Gaara had stared at the blood that ran down Yashamaru's face, and he'd wondered what it felt like to bleed. Was it something like the hole inside his heart?

He'd never gotten the chance to find out, even though he'd stolen a knife and hid it in his room all day, waiting for the right moment to try and cut himself, to see if he could bleed, to feel what pain was like. But the sand had stopped him from doing that, and Yashamaru had chided him for trying. Pain was an awful feeling, Yashamaru explained to him, something that everyone wanted to avoid. Gaara understood then, that that was what he felt in his heart. It was pain, but a different kind of pain. There was no blood from this wound, but he hurt, all the same.

But Yashamaru had explained that too. He'd said, "Unlike for a wound to the body, there is no medicine for a wound to the heart, and sometimes it never heals." But there was a different kind of cure for a wound to the heart, one that could only be administered by another person. A strange power that Gaara had only heard about in some of Temari's fairytale stories; Love. He thought it sounded like some sort of magic.

But it wasn't magic, Yashamaru said, it was something that one person could give to another. He said Gaara had had it all along; a gift from his mother. The sand was evidence of her love, her desire that her son should always be protected. Gaara's mother had always loved him, Yashamaru said. And Gaara was precious to Yashamaru, too.

Those words were balm to Gaara's wounded heart. They made him feel happy again, like he'd been on that long ago day he'd gotten to spend with his brother and sister. He liked this feeling very much. He loved to feel loved.

When he felt that, he felt like he could do anything. Even maybe get some of the other children to like him, so they would invite him to join their next game. He knew that in order to get someone to like you, you had to be nice to them first. He hadn't been very nice to the other kids earlier; he'd hurt them. He'd have to apologize, and offer them something to make it better.

Yashamaru had let him take some of the medicines from the first aid kit, and Gaara ran out into the Suna night. The desert cooled down rapidly after the sun went down, and so there was a chill to the air. Gaara hardly felt it. The wind was calm that night, a rarity but a welcome one. Gaara was so excited, he clutched the bag tightly to his chest as he ran down the street.

His first stop was at the house of one of the older boys of the group, a boy named Mio. He hadn't been hurt too badly, thanks to Yashamaru stopping Gaara. But with the help of the medicines Gaara was bringing, he was sure that the few hurts Mio did have would be healed that much quicker.

He ran up to the front door and knocked, waiting with eager anticipation until at last Mio opened the door. Gaara offered him the bag he'd brought, ducking his head a little, suddenly shy. "I'm sorry for what happened earlier. It really must have hurt. I brought you some medicine…"

Mio glowered at him, interrupting. "Get out of here, freak." He slammed the door closed.

Gaara stared at the closed door, feeling himself trembling. He'd been trying to do something nice, but it didn't matter. It never mattered. Mio would never like him. Why didn't anybody like him?

He dropped the bag in front of the door, and trudged away. The scene kept replaying itself in his mind, along with so many others. Every look of hatred, of fear. Every bad name people had called him. It was all just too much.

Head down, Gaara wasn't really paying attention to where he was going. He was only vaguely aware of someone approaching; an intoxicated man, stumbling home from a long night of drinking. It had nothing to do with Gaara, so when the man bumped into him, he just kept walking.

The man stumbled to a halt, too drunk to have even noticed the small boy until he'd bumped into him. And apparently he'd taken offense to the sudden interruption, and so demanded, "Why don't you watch where you're going, you-"

Gaara turned to look at the man speaking to him, delivering the beginnings of a drunken tirade. But the drunkard stumbled over his words when he realized who exactly he was speaking to.

"You're- you're that kid! You…" The anger in the man's eyes was gone, replaced instantly with fear. They were the same eyes. The same eyes everyone looked at Gaara with. Fear.

He couldn't _stand _it.

The sands howled and flew at the man in a rage, driving him back. The man yelled, flailing against the attack, thrown backwards and landing heavily against the road. He let out a low, anguished moan, and lay still. Gaara turned away, and kept walking. He could hear people in the road behind him, coming out to check on the commotion, but he paid no attention to them.

Someone was waiting up ahead in the shadows for him. Gaara paused when he came near, finding himself the sole focus of his father, the Kazekage's, glare. Shame flooded Gaara in an instant. Like with his siblings, he hardly ever got to see his father. Father was a very powerful man, and he hardly had any time for his youngest son. The few times Gaara had ever seen him, he'd tried very hard to please this man that impressed him so, but it never seemed to be enough. Gaara's mother had loved Gaara; why didn't his father?

But Gaara knew why, now. He'd done something bad. He shouldn't have pushed that drunken man in the street. He'd been so angry, but it still hadn't been right for him to do that. And now Father knew about it, and was mad at Gaara. He didn't even have to say anything to his son; the anger in his eyes said it all. That was worse than any kind of punishment. Gaara lowered his head, and kept walking.

He ended up on one of his favorite perches; a rooftop that towered over the rest of the city, without really knowing how he'd gotten there. He sat on the edge, unafraid of falling, looking down on the empty streets. He'd long ago discovered he liked to find very high places to sit and think, especially when he was feeling sad. Being so very high up made him feel closer to the sky, as if he could reach out and touch it. And from so high up, everything below seemed a little less significant, and such unimportant things shouldn't have the power to hurt him.

It didn't really make him feel any better tonight, however. He could feel the hole in his heart getting bigger; _hurting._ There was something wrong with him. There was a reason nobody in the village liked him. It was like… he wasn't even human. Maybe he was some kind of monster…

The swift rushing of sand was the only warning he got of sudden danger. He could feel the wind at his back as the sand rushed up in a shield, and seconds later, something struck that sandy barrier. Gaara spun, and the sand swirled with him, letting him get a good look at his attacker.

The ninja was covered head to toe, so Gaara couldn't tell who it was. It wasn't too hard to guess their intentions, however; there was a dozen or so kunai levitating above the ground, all of their sharp points trained intently on Gaara. As he watched, those many deadly points sped directly at him.

The sand rose up again to intercept them, sweeping them out of the way. Gaara was too stunned to consider running. Not that it would have helped; he stood at the edge of the rooftop; there was nowhere for him to run.

Gaara didn't understand what was going on. He knew nobody liked him, but he didn't think anybody had wanted him _dead._ Why were they trying to kill him?

"Why me? Why is it _always me?"_

At his command, the sand attacked. At his command, the sand engulfed the ninja in inescapable bonds. At his command, the sand _crushed_ the assassin.

Staring at that broken body collapsed on the rooftop, Gaara couldn't believe what he'd done. Yes, they'd tried to kill him, but he'd hurt them so badly. He ought to go find Yashamaru; maybe Yashamaru had medicine that could help…

But Gaara found he couldn't leave. He stepped closer, his whole body shaking. The assassin wasn't moving, but Gaara was still afraid of him. He reached out, to take the mask away…

It was Yashamaru. It had been Yashamaru all along. _Yashamaru had tried to kill him._

Why? How could he? Yashamaru had said Gaara was precious to him. He'd said all those nice things, about love… he'd said Gaara was loved. So, how could he?

"Because I hate you, Gaara. I think deep down, I've always hated you. You were _never loved."_

And then, a final effort to kill him; Yashamaru used his own body as a bomb. Yashamaru didn't even care if he lived, so long as Gaara died with him.

But the sand, Gaara's only friend, protected its small charge. Gaara was spared from the blast. He almost wished he hadn't been. Now he had to live, with the knowledge of what he was.

It was too much. The hole in Gaara's heart got so big, and the darkness encompassed his entire being. He felt the darkness smothering him, the memories crowding in from all sides to cut at his soul with their sharp taunts. It had all been a lie. Everything Yashamaru said about love, it'd been a _lie. _Gaara was never loved. He'd never be loved by anyone. He had to love himself, and only himself, or he would die.

Love had _betrayed him._

And he would make the world suffer for it.

Gaara screamed out his fury and pain at the uncaring night sky. The sand flew in wild abandonment, and then whirled on its master, striking at his skull with a deadly precision.

_.x.x.x._

Gaara woke to pain and sand and beyond that, someone yelling. For a moment he was disoriented, still caught up in the memory of a long ago childhood, a long ago betrayal. There was sand everywhere, swirling around him, and something red and sticky was dripping down his face. There seemed to be so much more sand than could fit in his backpack.

"Gaara!" The yelling persisted over the roaring of the sand, and someone was trying to make their way through the sandstorm. "Gaara!"

Gaara shook, suddenly realizing where he was and what they'd been doing. All of that had just been a memory, but it had triggered something else… The sand fell away at once, revealing his stunned companions. The room was in complete disarray; desks were toppled and knocked against the walls, and there were papers scattered everywhere. At least one of the windows was cracked.

"Gaara, what happened?" Neji demanded the moment the sand no longer held him at bay. "You're bleeding!"

"I am?" Gaara remembered the pain then, reaching up to touch his forehead. He winced, and his fingers came away glistening with blood. "What I saw… it was awful…"

"The sand reacted to whatever you were seeing," Orochimaru-sensei said. "Perhaps, _reenacting _whatever you were seeing. I'm so sorry; when I suggested reliving your first memories of training, I never suspected that the act might be dangerous somehow…"

"You should get that cleaned up," Neji said gently. When Gaara didn't move, Neji took his hand and led him out of the classroom to the nearest boy's bathroom.

Gaara followed him meekly. His thoughts were all jumbled, what he had seen weighing heavily on him. That had been the beginning, Gaara knew. He knew now how his previous incarnation could have done all those terrible things in his childhood, could have killed so many people. Gaara knew now, what it felt like to be a monster.

"_That was only the beginning,"_ Shukaku whispered to him. _"Thus began a sweet era of hatred and bloodshed. Your fury at the world, your need to kill to appease your own hurts, fed all my desires to cause suffering. It was a beautiful time. I was very proud of you."_

Gaara shook his head, refusing to rise to the demon's bait. He deliberately changed the subject. His voice sounded a little hoarse when he spoke; he wondered if he'd been screaming. "What did you see?"

"Nothing so interesting as you, I'm sure," Neji answered as they entered the bathroom. Neji got some paper towels and began wetting them in the sink. "I didn't get to see much at all, before your yelling brought me back to the present. It was like waking from a pleasant dream to find yourself in the middle of a tornado."

"I'm sorry," Gaara mumbled.

"I'm not accusing you," Neji said. He began cleaning some of the blood from Gaara's face. "I think this is going to scar. It cut pretty deeply."

That was just great. Temari was going to have a fit when she saw what had happened. Gaara would get stuck with daily therapy sessions for this, he knew. He took the paper towels from Neji to finish cleaning off the blood, and when he thought it had stopped bleeding, he turned to look at the damage in the mirror.

There on his forehead, just as it had been in the picture of the fifth Kazekage, was the livid red kanji, _ai. _Love.


	18. Spontaneous Combustion

Gaara stared at his reflection in the mirror, his gaze memorizing every line of the cuts on his forehead. As he stared, he imagined the sound of the door to his own private padded cell slamming shut. There was no way his siblings would believe him if he told them it had been an accident, that he hadn't _meant_ to carve the symbol into his flesh. And why should they? Even if he hadn't meant to injure himself, the very existence of that bleeding icon proved that all was not right in Gaara's mind.

"It's not so bad," Neji spoke up from where he stood watching Gaara.

Gaara turned to him, a little incredulous. Neji glanced at the mark on Gaara's forehead, as though to make sure it had indeed stopped bleeding, and seemed satisfied that it had.

"How is it 'not so bad'?" Gaara finally asked. From what he could tell, the kanji that the sand had given him represented nothing _but_ bad.

"At least the sand has decent handwriting," Neji offered.

"_He's right,"_ Shukaku chimed in. _"The sand gave you the mark in a reenactment of something you'd done at a very young age. You could have ended up not only with a scar, but a scar with bad spelling."_

"And any deeper, and it might have needed stitches, or even pierced your skull. The sand could have killed you," Neji continued. "Despite all the stormy display, this was made with a surgical precision. If it can do something like this, with such control amidst violence, it's almost scary to think what else it might be capable of."

"Are you afraid of it now, Neji?" Gaara asked him.

To tell the truth, Gaara was a little scared of the sand now. It had seemed so tame at first, nesting peaceably inside of his backpack. Even with Shukaku's threats and posturing, the sand had still seemed like nothing so much as a pet, like an eager-to-please puppy. Gaara had gotten to see its precision in action when it had assisted with his archery in gym class, but at the time they'd been attacking straw-filled targets. Nothing that screamed or bled or _died._

But that memory… he'd relived a life long gone, a life in which he'd learned to kill at a very young age. Kill to survive, and survive to kill again. He'd watched the sand kill; at his _own_ command, not Shukaku's. The sand, for all its antics, was not alive. It had no remorse, no mercy. It was a weapon.

"_It has always been a weapon," _Shukaku whispered. _"It was never anything else. It purred and cuddled because that was what you wanted from it; something harmless and friendly. If you wanted it to tear down this building, it would do that. If you wanted it to tap dance, it would do that. So it is not what the _sand_ is capable of that should frighten you. It is what _you_ are capable of."_

"I'm not afraid of it," Neji said softly. "I don't know what happened in your past life that caused you to carve that kanji into your own flesh, but from the sandstorm in the classroom and the stricken look on your face, I'm going to guess it was suitably traumatic. Reliving it may have caused some scars, and not just the ones on your forehead. But I'd like to think that this time, with a degree of separation, you'll be better equipped to handle it. Not to mention, you'll have some help. You're not alone in this."

_Alone._ That had been at the heart of his problems, in that long ago past, wasn't it? Gaara had been all alone, reviled and despised as a monster, even as a child. With nothing but the pain of being hated and abandoned, how could he do any less than become the creature they so hated, and feared? There had been nothing to show him anything different. Shukaku would have had no need to spur him on; the villagers had done the demon's work for him, transforming Gaara from child to killer.

But the villagers and their hatred and fear were gone now. This was a different life and a new chance. This time Gaara wasn't alone; he had Neji, and the Ninja Club. Though he could relive his past memories, he didn't have to _live_ that life.

"_Are you trying to make me vomit?"_ Shukaku asked irritably. _"Your optimism is the worst kind of weed; even when I rip it out by the root, it keeps growing back. You may have a new life, but you're still connected to who you were. Your new wound, if nothing else, proves that. Deny what you are all you want; I'll always be here to remind you."_

"Gaara?" Neji said. "What did you see, in that memory? What made the sand react like that?"

"It was…" Gaara began. He paused; words didn't seem quite enough to explain what had happened to his past incarnation. "I saw-"

The bathroom door opened then, the squealing of its hinges preceding Kankuro's rush into the room. Kankuro stopped up short when he saw the two of them, staring. Gaara stared back, then remembered the kanji on his forehead. He clamped a hand over it, but the damage was done.

"What _happened?"_ Kankuro demanded of his little brother. "Temari and I have been looking everywhere for you, and _what the_ _hell is that on your forehead_?"

Belatedly, Gaara realized he'd not told Temari and Kankuro that he would be meeting with the Ninja Club after school. When classes let out and Gaara did not emerge from the building to join them on the walk home, naturally his siblings would have panicked and begun a hunt to find him. And naturally, they had found him before he'd thought up a good excuse for his new "tattoo." Siblings were very inconsiderate that way.

Gaara lowered his hand; there was no point in hiding the evidence now. "It's nothing," he said, in a voice he hoped would warn his brother to drop the subject.

Kankuro seemed to get the hint, but was reluctant to let it drop, all the same. "It looks painful," he offered carefully, wary of Gaara's wrath. "Did someone do that to you?"

"I did it to myself," Gaara said. It was close enough to the truth. He didn't know what he would say if Kankuro asked _why_ he'd done that to himself, however. "I need to get my backpack. I'll meet you outside."

Kankuro didn't move at first, and Gaara began to fear Kankuro was going to make a big deal over it right there in the boy's bathroom. But in the end, Kankuro seemed to decide against whatever he was intending to say, shaking his head. "Temari is not going to like this," he finally said. "Be outside in five minutes, or we'll come searching for you again." He turned and left without further comment.

Gaara stared at the door for a long moment after Kankuro left. This was bad. There was no way he'd be able to think up a good explanation in the next five minutes.

Neji put a hand on Gaara's shoulder. "Will you be alright?" he asked. "Do you want me to come with you? Maybe I could help explain to your brother and sister…"

While it might help Gaara's case to have a witness corroborate his story, Gaara shook his head. "I'll be fine. They already think I'm crazy. This just proves it."

"You're not crazy," Neji said. "You could try telling them the truth."

"You think the truth will sound any more believable than any lie I could make up?"

Neji smiled. "Convince them. You convinced me, remember?"

Gaara almost smiled at the memory. "Compelling evidence," Neji had called it. He'd need no less than that compelling evidence if he hoped to convince Temari and Kankuro, especially now. Besides, he couldn't just go home without the sand, no matter what it had just done.

Gaara hoped all the saved-up allowance money in the box under his bed would be enough to pay for the damages to the classroom.

Thankfully, the classroom didn't look quite so bad returning to it as it had when they'd left. Orochimaru-sensei had returned most of the student desks to their proper formations. All of the sand seemed to have removed itself to Gaara's backpack. The only remaining evidence of Hurricane Gaara was the cracks in the windows, temporarily mended now by strips of tape.

"Someone came by looking for you," Orochimaru-sensei informed Gaara when they'd returned. "Blonde girl, said she was your sister." He opened up a small first-aid box, offering Gaara a band-aide.

Gaara attempted to affix the band-aide without the use of a mirror; when that proved awkward, Neji took the band-aide and applied it for him.

"She and my brother are waiting for me," Gaara said, self-consciously touching the bandage briefly. "I should go."

Orochimaru-sensei nodded slowly. "Again, I apologize for the way this went. I had no idea we ought to expect such a violent reaction. However, such is the nature of experimentation, sometimes. Now that we know a bit better what to expect, I do hope this experience won't scare either of you off."

Neji looked to Gaara. "I'd understand if you didn't want to," he said softly. "I'd like to keep trying. I only got the briefest glimpse, and I'd very much like to see what more it leads to. I imagine that whatever my past holds, it's not nearly so… violent as yours."

Gaara knew he ought to back out of this experiment. What he'd seen was only the beginning, as Shukaku said. It would only get worse from there. Still… as Orochimaru-sensei said, he knew a bit better what to expect now. The book had said what Gaara's previous incarnation had been like. But knowing it and _living_ it were so different, and if the sand ever reacted so fiercely to a recovered memory again, someone besides Gaara might get hurt.

Then again, there was still a chance that somewhere in all that forgotten past, there were answers that Gaara needed. Keys to containing and controlling Shukaku, and taking back his life.

"I still want to," Gaara decided.

Orochimaru-sensei smiled. "Excellent. I'll do some more research tonight, and tomorrow we can try again, with a little more caution. I expect both of you will rest well tonight. And one more thing before you go… Considering the chances of repeating this little episode, I think I'll have to insist neither of you do any practicing on your own outside of our Ninja Club meetings. I'd feel much better if anything more to do with recovering your past memories was done under my supervision."

Gaara nodded a quick agreement to that, though he was not entirely certain he'd be able to uphold such a promise. Especially if he was further plagued with spontaneous memory visions. But he decided not to mention those just yet. He glanced at the clock; he wasn't sure how much time had elapsed, but he was certain Kankuro would keep his promise to start looking for Gaara again if he wasn't outside soon.

"I do have to go," Gaara said. He picked up his backpack; it was heavier than before, and the sand let out a soft, breathy sigh before it was silent once more.

"I will see the both of you tomorrow then," Orochimaru-sensei said pleasantly. "I do hope your friends will be in attendance, as well."

Gaara just nodded, though he didn't expect to see Sasuke _ever_ again. Probably Naruto would be there, though, if he'd gotten over whatever illness had kept him away from school today. He shouldered his bag, and headed out of the classroom.

Neji came with him, walking along side as Gaara tromped down the stairs. Neji didn't say anything, but somehow Gaara just felt better by having him there. They paused in the main hall, just before they reached the front doors. Through the windows, Gaara could see Temari and Kankuro out front, waiting for him. Temari kept checking her watch, saying something to Kankuro that Gaara couldn't hear from where he stood. Kankuro just nodded, looking up at the building with a consternate expression.

Neji watched them too, before looking to Gaara. "Will you be alright?" he asked again.

Gaara nodded, though he wasn't sure at all that would be the case. "Yeah. I don't know how they'll react, but… it may be worth it if they know I'm not crazy. At least, not in the way they think."

"They'll believe you," Neji predicted.

"Yeah, maybe," Gaara said. "I think Kankuro at least will. I know he feels at least a little connected to a past life, too. He told me once, he had these dreams…" He shook his head. "I hope it's enough." He moved to head out those doors and join his siblings, but Neji caught his hand and made him pause. Gaara looked at him, waiting, glad for the excuse not to leave just yet.

From the look on his face, Neji had a dozen different things to say, but examined and discarded every one. "Good luck," Neji finally said. He gave Gaara's hand a little reassuring squeeze. "Not that I think you'll need it."

Gaara smiled, just a little bit. "I never used to believe luck existed, at least, not any that favored me. I suppose I should be more grateful; luck brought me here, after all." _To you._

Neji shook his head. "That was more than luck. It's almost enough to make me believe in _fate._"

Gaara stared at him, then pulled Neji close to him, holding him in impulsive embrace. Neji stiffened, from the suddenness of the move, but relaxed quickly, holding Gaara as well.

"Thank you," Gaara whispered.

"For what?"

Gaara shrugged. "Just… everything." Maybe Gaara had never been crazy, but it had always been a close thing. But Neji had _always_ been with him, even if it had only been the dreams, at first. Neji kept him sane.

"_And you're _thanking_ him for that?"_ Shukaku muttered.

"_Shut up,"_ Gaara commanded the demon. _"You like him too."_

Shukaku made an imperious noise. _"You can't prove that."_

Gaara probably could if he wanted to, but decided to let it slide.

It seemed that Shukaku picked up on that thought, however. _"As fun as it is to watch your little moon-eyed courtship ritual, you've got about twenty seconds before Tweedle-dumb and Tweedle-dumber out there come back to look for you. So you might want to get a move on." _

At the demon's words, Gaara glanced outside again. His siblings were still there, and still looking impatient and worried.

"Should probably go," Neji said.

Gaara nodded, not wanting to leave. But there was no putting off the inevitable, so he might as well get it over with. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Both Temari and Kankuro wore expressions of relief when Gaara finally emerged from the school building, but it soon reverted back to worry.

"What happened, Gaara?" Temari asked as her brother walked over. "Kankuro told me you've been… cutting yourself. Why would you do that? You know you can talk to me, right? You should tell me if you're getting urges to hurt yourself." She chewed her lower lip briefly. "Maybe it was a mistake to let you stay off your medications…"

Gaara scowled, not at all liking where this conversation was going, and he hadn't even gotten to put a word in edgewise. "It's not like that. I'll tell you what happened, but not here. When we get home." He started walking, not giving Temari a chance to argue and demand _immediate_ explanations. After a beat, Temari and Kankuro fell into step behind him. They kept their standard three foot distance.

The silence was tense the whole way home. Gaara could only guess at what his siblings must be thinking, but he knew his own thoughts were on overdrive. He came up with and discarded over a dozen explanations for the cuts on his skin. Part of him still wanted to keep the truth a secret. But it always came back to that. He would have to tell them what really happened.

And they would believe him, or so Neji had promised. And wouldn't that make things just a little easier? If his brother and sister knew the true nature of Shukaku, and what had transpired in the past, they could help him figure it all out. They'd be able to dispense with the weekly visits to his know-it-all psychiatrist. Things would get better. Or so he hoped.

They reached the house and Temari unlocked the door, letting them inside. Temari and Kankuro dropped their backpacks and coats by the door, both of them taking a seat on the sofa in the living room, watching him expectantly. They'd waited long enough, and now they wanted to hear what he had to tell them. Gaara hung on to his backpack; he'd need what was inside when it came time to prove his claims. He didn't sit.

Kankuro spoke up into the stretching silence. "I didn't really get a good look at it. Was that a _word_ you wrote on your forehead?"

"It says _'love',_" Gaara admitted.

"You were doing so well," Temari said softly. "What happened today, Gaara?"

Gaara considered where to start. So much had happened in such a short period of time, he didn't think he could even begin to explain it all. "It was an accident," he finally said.

"How do you _accidentally_ cut a kanji into your skin?" Kankuro said.

"I was trying to recover a memory of my past life," Gaara said, well aware that this was going to sound crazy. "I'd done it before, and it had never turned out too bad, even when I had bad memories. But this time, I ended up with a _really_ bad memory, where I'd used sand to cut that kanji into my forehead. I _relived_ that memory, so that sand reacted the same way it had before."

Both his siblings stared at him, as though he'd been speaking an entirely foreign language. Finally, Kankuro spoke, in a voice tinged with a sort of fearful awe. "You've completely lost it."

Gaara scowled. "I haven't lost anything. Ever since we've moved here, I've been recovering memories from a past life I'd lived. The voice in my head isn't a schizophrenic delusion; it's a demon, and it was in my past life, too. The sand is… kind of a trick I can do, I guess. It moves on its own, and it's pretty nice usually. This is the only time it's ever hurt anybody…" _In this life_, he silently added.

Temari took a shuddery breath. "Okay, I think that's enough. I'm going to make an emergency appointment with Dr. Iira, and we'll get you back on your meds-"

"I'm not crazy!" Gaara interrupted. "I have proof." He unzipped his backpack and plopped it on the ground. "There."

Temari and Kankuro leaned forward a little to glance at its contents with puzzled expressions.

"Why is your backpack full of sand?" Kankuro asked.

"It doesn't like being left alone, so I have to carry it around," Gaara muttered. He was frowning at the backpack. He urged the sand to move, to twist and dance as it usually did. The sands displays were his ultimate proof, the only thing that could convince his siblings of his sanity.

But the sand, no matter how he urged it, lay entirely inert within the confines of the bag. Not a ripple, not a sigh. It wouldn't move at all. _Why wouldn't it move?_

"_Please," _Gaara silently pleaded at the sand. _"Just move, just a little. A twitch should be enough… a tiny ripple… anything!"_

The sand did not respond.

"Gaara," Temari said slowly. She stood up and took a step forward, pausing only when Gaara transferred his gaze to her. "I understand that a lot has been going on since we moved here. You've never had friends before, and I think maybe it's putting too much stress on your… condition. Maybe Dr. Haku was wrong, and you're not ready for so much socialization yet. We'll talk to Dr. Iira, and I'm sure she'll agree."

Gaara stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

"For a while I thought you having new friends was a good thing, that it meant you were getting better. I think now that it's aggravating the situation instead. Maybe spending time with Neji and Naruto isn't the best thing for you right now, if that's what is spawning these new delusions. We'll have to talk to your psychiatrist of course, and get you back on medication…"

"_You know she was just waiting for this,"_ Shukaku hissed into his mind. _"She never wanted you to be with Neji. She wants to lock you in a room forever and ever, drugged up to your eyeballs, so you can never escape."_

"_Shut up,"_ Gaara commanded, aware of the toll Shukaku's words were taking.

"_You know I'm right,"_ the demon continued. _"You're nothing but her poor, insane brother. You're a burden to her. She's given up her whole life to take care of you and she resents it. So now she'll look for any excuse to lock you up and throw away the key."_

"_Shut up!"_ Gaara ordered it. But he could feel his control slipping. That familiar feeling of rage and red haze crept in from the hidden places in his mind.

"_Punish her,"_ Shukaku said. _"She hurt you; hurt her back. Crush her. Destroy her. She would do the same to you if she could. She thinks she's strong, but she's weak. You can break her. Kill her."_

_Kill her. Kill her. Kill her kill-her-kill-her-kill-her…_

Shukaku's words filled his mind, driving out all else. So many times he'd resisted that insidious voice lately, and now he had no strength left to fight it. The red haze cloaked his vision and his sanity, turning everything to rage and pain. Hate pulsed in his heartbeat, killing fury tainted his every breath.

He grabbed the nearest weapon at hand- a lamp- without really noticing. The room was suddenly darkened as the plug pulled free of the wall socket. Still he could see his sister backing away from him, and, along with Shukaku, he savored the look of fear on her face. She was saying something, pleading with him, and so was Kankuro, but Gaara didn't hear any of it. What he did hear was a memory, replaying a million times in the space of a few seconds, dark and distorted by Shukaku's red fury.

"_Do you ever wonder what our lives would have been like if Gaara had never been born?" Kankuro asked._

"_Yes," Temari said. "Every single day."_

They feared him. They hated him. They wished that he didn't even exist. They didn't think of him as their brother; he was just a monster. They had never loved him.

_Never loved him._

The kanji on his skin burned with renewed pain, its sharpness forcing away some of the red insanity that fogged his thoughts. Another memory, an older memory, whispered up from the depths of his mind, to contradict the mantra of hatred, fury and despair that currently presided.

"_Tell you what," a young Temari said, "when you're older, you can be a ninja with us. We'll be a team, the three of us."_

Gaara grit his teeth, turned and threw the lamp. It struck the fireplace and shattered loudly. Before either of his siblings could react, he grabbed up his backpack and ran up the stairs, taking refuge in his room and ramming a chair under the doorknob for good measure. He sat down hard on his bed and tried to calm his breathing. He felt as though he'd run a mile, rather than just upstairs.

"_What the hell did you do that for?"_ Shukaku demanded. _"That was Death by Blunt Force Trauma waiting to happen, and you just had to go and ruin it. And after all the work I put into it, too." _

"And what would you do if I ended up in jail?" Gaara demanded. "Forget the asylum; I'd end up in _prison._"

"_But first they'd have to catch you,"_ Shukaku said. _"Even if you ended up in a prison cell, they wouldn't be able to keep you there. Don't you get it now? You're unstoppable. There is no jail in the world that the sand couldn't get you out of."_

"Assuming it ever works again," Gaara muttered. He looked into his backpack; the sand remained stubbornly inanimate. "What was that all about, anyway?"

"_It's out of chakra."_

"What?"

"_Chakra, stupid. It ran out of batteries," _the demon elaborated. _"You did give it quite a workout today, what with that whole Nobody-Loves-Me-So-I'm-Gonna-Cut-Myself routine. It's been losing chakra for days. You gotta recharge it periodically."_

"I just made a fool of myself down there. Temari and Kankuro think I'm having a complete psychotic meltdown, and probably will never let me leave this house again, save for under the influence of heavy tranquilizers," Gaara said. "And you don't think you _could have told me this earlier?!"_

"_Could have, but then I wouldn't get to do this;"_ And Shukaku broke out into peals of maniacal laughter, at Gaara's expense.

"I hate you!" Gaara shouted at it. "Hate you, hate you, hate you!" He beat his fists against his head, though he knew it hurt him more than the demon. He hoped it at least rattled Shukaku in there a little.

"Gaara?" Temari's voice came from the hallway. She tried the doorknob, but with the chair against it, the door didn't budge.

"Go away!" Gaara snapped at her. He wasn't ready to fix that particular mess yet.

"I called Dr. Iira," Temari said through the door. "She wants to talk to you. Please, Gaara, just talk to her for a minute. We'll get this sorted out."

Gaara yanked the chair away, opening the door. Temari stood in the hall, holding out the phone for him, with a worried expression. He took the phone, pressed the 'end call' button, and handed it back to her. As she stood there gaping, he closed the door in her face.

"_You know she'll just call the police now,"_ Shukaku said.

"_You're the one that said I don't have to worry about going to jail,"_ Gaara said.

"_You wouldn't have to… if you had the sand. It's out of commission, remember?"_

Gaara grit his teeth. _"So teach me how to recharge it."_

"_You know, I don't think I will," _Shukaku said. _"Not today, at any rate. You ruined my fun, you yelled at me, and you gave me a headache. You go on about how much better your life would be without me. Go ahead then; charge the sand yourself." _And the demon fell silent, obviously intending to let Gaara blunder through this on his own.

That just figured. He'd finally found a use for the damned demon, and Shukaku wouldn't cooperate.

"Gaara?" Temari asked again.

Gaara grit his teeth. He'd thought she'd gotten the hint and left. After the kind of day he'd had, that would be too much to expect, it seemed.

"Gaara, please. If you won't talk to Dr. Iira, at least talk to me. Tell me what's going on with you."

"I did tell you," Gaara said. "You didn't believe me."

"It's not that I didn't believe you…" Temari attempted. But even Gaara could tell how weak that sounded. "Okay, you have to admit. What you said about… past lives, and demons, it's pretty… unbelievable."

Gaara did know how unbelievable that was. Even he hadn't believed it at first, when Naruto tried to convince him. In fact, it hadn't been until he'd gotten that book from Orochimaru-sensei…

Gaara snatched up his backpack, digging through the inert sand to unearth the book, "A Brief History of the Hidden Villages." It wasn't as good proof as the sand would have been, but still it might be enough to convince his sister. He flipped through the pages until he came to the portrait of the fifth Kazekage. Then he threw open the door, and presented the book to his startled sibling.

Temari stared at him, then stared at the picture in the book she suddenly found herself holding. "It looks like… you."

"It was," Gaara agreed.

"I don't understand," Temari said. She flipped through the pages of the book, then looked at the cover, then returned to her baffled examining of the contents. At last, she returned helplessly to the portrait. "Where did you get this?"

"Orochimaru-sensei gave it to me," Gaara said. "That's the past life I told you about. It was a long time ago, but I get memories, it's like living it all over again. I was _there._ Neji was too, and Naruto and Sasuke." He paused, trying to gauge her reaction. She didn't even look up from the book, seeming stunned. Quietly, he added, "You and Kankuro were there, too."

She looked up sharply, trying to discern from his expression any hint that he might be joking. But Gaara was telling her the truth. Her expression softened a little, but she was still frowning. Gaara guessed that she still wasn't convinced, and her next words confirmed it. "I don't know, Gaara. You do bear a… rather striking resemblance to this person in the picture, but… you know it wasn't _you. _These memories, they're just some kind of hallucination, and it's probably not healthy for your new friends to be encouraging them. Especially if it leads to something like this…" She reached out to touch the band-aide on Gaara's forehead; he took a step out of her reach, and she let her hand drop.

"I can tell that you really want all of this to be real," Temari continued. "We've been looking for answers to your problems for so long, that this must seem like a perfect solution to you. But this is all just in your imagination."

Shukaku made a rude noise. _"Shows what she knows. You could never imagine up a story like this. You're not that creative."_

"_Why doesn't she believe me?"_ Gaara thought, exasperated. _"Why does no one ever believe me?"_

"_Human nature,"_ Shukaku said. _"I've been an unwilling observer to your pathetic mortal race for a good long time now, and I've noticed none of you will ever accept the most likely answer if it goes against all previous held beliefs. You're all kind of thickheaded that way. Can't ever just _believe_ in something; you always have to have proof." _

And Gaara's proof just wasn't good enough.

Temari must have seen some of the upset and disappointment in his expression, or at the very least, guessed at it. She closed the book gently and handed it back to him. He took it from her, staring at its scuffed cover rather than look at his skeptical sister.

"Okay Gaara," she said softly. "I understand that this is what you think is going on. I don't really understand it myself, but then, I've _never_ really understood what goes on with you. What bothers me most about this isn't that you're hallucinating. It's that it had caused you to hurt yourself."

"It's not so bad," Gaara muttered, unconsciously repeating the words Neji had said to him only an hour or so earlier.

Temari didn't seem to agree. "I'd like for you to stay home from school tomorrow, but neither Kankuro or I would be able to stay with you. I wonder if maybe we could arrange for a safe place for you to stay…"

That sounded a lot like Gaara's worst fear about to come true; a lifetime in a padded room. If he started spending his days there, it would only be a matter of time before he became a permanent resident. "I want to go to school tomorrow."

"I don't know if that's a good idea…" Temari said slowly.

"I want to." His hands clenched on the book he held. "Please don't send me away."

She let out her breath in a soft sigh. "Okay, you win. I still want you to see and, more importantly, _talk_ to Dr. Iira at your appointment this Saturday. In the meantime, you can still go to school, on the condition that no more of this cutting yourself stuff happens. No hurting anyone else either, of course, but if you get so much as a paper cut this week, I'll drag you to that asylum myself if I have to."

Gaara didn't think she'd be able to drag him anywhere, she or anyone else, but the point was moot. He'd be on his very best behavior if it saved him from the Crazy House. "Can I still see Neji and Orochimaru-sensei after school? We have another Ninja Club meeting tomorrow."

Temari frowned a little, but at least seemed to consider it. "I'll make you a deal. You can go to the meeting, if Kankuro and I can be there too. We're still not certain about these friends of yours, and I don't know that all this ninja stuff is healthy for you, so it's probably best if he and I oversee it."

It was Gaara's turn to frown, but Shukaku spoke up to counter Gaara's misgivings. _"Look at it this way,"_ the demon suggested. _"It was your returning memories that empowered the sand with your chakra. If you can manage it again tomorrow, they'd have to believe you then. They might even recover memories of their own."_

That sounded reasonable. Plus, they could lay to rest any fears that Neji was somehow a bad influence in Gaara's life. That seemed like a pretty good deal to him. Still, Orochimaru-sensei and Neji might not appreciate the audience. Though Naruto probably wouldn't care; it was the more, the merrier with him. "I'll have to talk to them about it tomorrow," Gaara said. "But it should be okay. Be at Orochimaru-sensei's classroom right after school, or we'll start without you."

Temari nodded, managing a tremulous smile. "Okay. And… thanks for talking with me about this, Gaara."

He just shrugged noncommittally, moving to return to the sanctuary of his bedroom. Temari spoke up again just as he was about to close the door and shut her out once more.

"Hey Gaara?" his sister said. "Mind if I borrow that book?"

"You said you didn't believe in any of this stuff," Gaara pointed out.

"I know; I don't. Still, I'd at least like to do a little research on whatever you're talking about. Maybe it'll change my mind." She didn't sound so certain about that last bit. But she'd never shown quite so much interest in _what_ exactly Gaara spent his days thinking about, and so he handed over the book to her. Maybe something in it would spark up her own lost memories, as it had for him.

One could hope, at any rate.

_.x.x.x._

The morning dawned sunny and cold, a contradiction due to the season's current confusion as to whether it was summer or autumn. It took a monumental effort not to break the alarm clock when it began its routine, but Gaara wanted the day to start off right. Despite the agreement he and Temari had reached, Gaara knew that his behavior today and in the next few days would be crucial. He would do whatever it took to convince his siblings that there was no need to isolate him from the rest of the world.

He went down to breakfast, and was a little disheartened to see a bowl of cereal set out at his place. Apparently they were back to not trusting him with any sort of sharp utensils. But that was just one more thing he would suffer through in the name of the greater good. He offered a "good morning" to his brother and sister, took his seat and ate the cereal without complaint. They watched him throughout the meal, not even bothering to hide their curiosity, their desire to just _understand_ the mind of their youngest sibling, as though they could figure it out just by watching him eating. He ignored their searching looks and ate his breakfast peaceably. It was actually pretty tasty.

Shukaku was quiet throughout the meal, as well. Gaara still had a dark dread that the demon would try something, do _something_ that would ruin today and get them both locked away for good. But the demon did nothing. Still, Gaara could feel Shukaku watching. He wondered if he'd finally impressed upon his unwilling tenant the importance of being _good_ for the next couple of days. That if they screwed this up, it was possible they would never see Neji again. Gaara hoped the demon would take the threat seriously, but even after so long together, Gaara still could never tell what Shukaku was thinking.

But so long as Shukaku was being passive, Gaara felt a sort of peace settling on him. By the end of breakfast, he was almost sure he could pull this off.

After eating, the three of them returned to their respective rooms to gather their school supplies, convening in the living room in the end to begin their trek to school. Gaara stepped out into the chilly morning, and stopped up short. Kankuro ran into his back, not having expected his brother's sudden halt. Almost at the same time, Temari asked, "What is that _smell_?"

Kankuro, seeing now what Gaara saw, pointed.

Lying in the middle of their porch was the corpse of a raccoon, sprawled out unnaturally in death. Its dead eyes were fixed on the three of them as if it were accusing them for its miserable end.

"Oh my god," Temari whispered, almost retching.

"It's like it just crawled up the stairs and died," Kankuro said.

Gaara stared at the poor dead thing, until he felt the weight of his siblings' stares. He turned to find them watching him, a look of appalled dread on both their faces.

"I _didn't do it," _Gaara said sharply. He knew by now he should expect their low opinion of him, but he hadn't slaughtered animals in _years._ Shukaku refused to waste his time with such inferior prey. "It's got froth around its mouth. Maybe it was sick."

"_Maybe it was poisoned,"_ Shukaku whispered.

"We can't just leave it there," Kankuro finally said. "We should… bury it or something."

"I'll get a trash bag," Temari murmured. She retreated into the house, returning moments later with a black plastic garbage bag clenched in her hands. She took a step toward the dead creature, and couldn't seem to make herself take another.

"I'll do it," Gaara said softly, reaching to take the bag from her hands. She let him.

He crouched down beside the little corpse, wasting no time in scooping it into the bag and tying it shut. He heard both his siblings let out a soft sigh as though in relief once it was gone.

"You can dig the hole," Gaara announced to his brother. Kankuro didn't argue, and the three trooped into the backyard to give the creature a proper burial.

All the while, Gaara wondered what _exactly_ the dead raccoon had been doing on the porch. As Kankuro had said, it had looked as though it had just walked up the steps and expired right in front of their door. Possibly, it had just been sick, and the place of its death was a mere coincidence.

Or maybe the dead beastie had been _left_ on Gaara's porch, on purpose. As a threat. Possibly the same someone that had left the photograph in his locker.

They buried the raccoon under the hydrangea bush. No one spoke. No one knew what to say.

That same silent melancholy followed them on the walk to school as well. Gaara walked a little bit faster than he normally did. Whether the raccoon was a warning or not, Gaara had an irresistible urge to make sure everything was as it should be at school. He breathed an almost audible sigh of relief when they finally reached the campus and he spotted Neji waiting for him where he usually did.

Perceptive as ever, Neji watched as Gaara approached, and asked, "Had a bad morning?"

"Something like that," Gaara agreed. He glanced over at his siblings. Kankuro had already disappeared into the morning crowds, but Temari was watching him a little warily. Gaara didn't know what she expected him to do, but clearly she didn't want to take any chances.

Gaara headed for the entrance, and Neji walked along with him.

"I'm guessing it didn't go so well yesterday," Neji said as they entered the building. "Your sister didn't look very convinced."

"She's not," Gaara said shortly. "The sand wouldn't move, and without evidence, they thought I was delusional. I only got to come to school today because I promised to be _very_ good. And Temari insists on coming to the Ninja Club meeting this afternoon."

Neji didn't object to that, thankfully, only nodded. "Sounds like she worries about you."

"You say that like it's a good thing," Gaara muttered. "It's annoying."

"It means she cares about you," Neji pointed out.

"It _means_ that she doesn't want to have to move again," Gaara corrected. "She's just coming to make sure you and Orochimaru-sensei aren't trying to turn me into some kind of Satan-worshipping cannibal."

"Not a cannibal, certainly," Neji said. He glanced at Gaara's backpack. "Why wouldn't the sand move?"

"Shukaku said it ran out of chakra," Gaara said. "Since I don't exactly know how I got it filled with chakra in the first place, getting it refilled is something of a problem."

"If you did it once, I'm sure you can manage it again," Neji said, comfortingly. "And once you do, Temari won't have any choice but to be convinced. It will all work out."

"I just hope it works out before I end up incarcerated," Gaara muttered. He shifted his backpack a little, listening for the soft sighs and rustlings the sand usually made. There were none. "I have to go to my locker before school starts."

Neji walked with him, though Gaara felt a little trepidation about letting Neji come along. After the photograph the day before, and the dead raccoon that morning, Gaara didn't really know what to expect next from his mysterious stalker. But when he got to his locker and opened it, there didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary. No new pictures or threats. Just his textbooks, right where he'd left them. Maybe the raccoon really just had been a coincidence.

"Should we still meet at our usual place at lunch?" Gaara asked as he loaded the books into his already sand-heavy backpack. "Orochimaru-sensei said not to try anything by ourselves. It doesn't look like Naruto's even here again today, and I doubt Sasuke will ever be coming back."

"I think we ought to, all the same," Neji said. "It's peaceful there, and it would be nice for it to be just the two of us. We don't have to bother with past memories; we'll just talk. Like a lunchtime date."

Neji smiled at him, such an affectionate smile, and Gaara wondered if he was blushing. It was amazing to him; with just a few sentences, Neji had given him something to look forward to, and had made a bad morning so much better.

_.x.x.x._

The morning classes were fine, as those things went. Shukaku held his peace throughout, a blessing Gaara was more than grateful for. It was a lot easier to concentrate on what he was supposed to be learning when he didn't have to divide his time between listening to the teacher and arguing with the gleefully homicidal voice in his head. Gaara's notebook was filling up with notes rather than his usual doodles, and on the whole, he was beginning to feel good about how the day was going. The events of the day before and that morning were relegated to the back of his mind; there was no point in worrying about any of it now, and so he resolved not to.

He spoke briefly with Orochimaru-sensei after history, as seemed to be his habit these days. Gaara told him that his brother and sister would be sitting in on their Ninja Club meeting after school, and Orochimaru-sensei didn't seem at all perturbed by that.

He did mention the difficulty he was having with his sand, and Orochimaru-sensei admitted to not knowing how to fix the problem. He did, however, seem optimistic that their afternoon experiments would somehow hit on the trick to renewing the sand's chakra once more. Gaara hoped that would be the case. And so, with nothing else to report, Gaara went on to his next class.

Third period passed as the first two had, with an uneventful anticipation. At last the bell rang to signal lunch, and for once Gaara rushed for the door along with the rest of the students.

It was still cold outside when Gaara left the building, but the sun was bright. Gaara knew that despite the season, the greenhouse would probably be warm enough. Gaara thought he even heard the sand make a few soft whispers from within the confines of his bag, and he had to smile a little at that. He imagined that even the sand was eager to be with Neji.

But when he reached the greenhouse, he discovered that Neji's plans for it to be just the two of them would have to be rewritten to include a third. Neji hadn't arrived yet, but despite all of Gaara's doubts, Sasuke was waiting in the greenhouse, sitting in his usual corner. He didn't look over when Gaara walked in, seeming almost purposefully to be avoiding his gaze. His eyes were fixed on a row of tiny pots, all newly filled with fresh dirt, probably already planted with seeds. They'd definitely need to find a new meeting place soon, lest the Botany class discover their lunchtime hide out.

"I wasn't expecting to see you again," Gaara stated bluntly to Sasuke.

Sasuke just shrugged, not looking away from the little potted plants. They couldn't be _that _interesting. "Will Naruto be coming today?"

"No," Gaara said. "He wasn't here this morning. Disappointed?"

Sasuke seemed about to shrug again in his usual indifference, then seemed to change his mind. "I wanted to talk to him about something."

"That memory you had yesterday?" Gaara guessed.

Sasuke looked up at him, eyes narrowed, but Gaara didn't flinch under the harsh regard. In the end, it was Sasuke that backed down, eyes flicking back to the plants as though Gaara had been of no concern all along. "The memory I had… I remembered hunting him. I haven't been able to recover any past memories since. I never learned whether or not I caught him."

"Does it matter now?"

"I guess it doesn't," Sasuke said.

Sasuke was lying. Gaara could tell. He didn't know why such a thing would be of any importance to Sasuke, since it seemed to have nothing to do with the answers Sasuke was supposedly seeking. But for some reason, the memory Sasuke had recovered the day before- hunting Naruto, determined to kill him- was bothering Sasuke deeply. Even if he wasn't willing to admit it. And since that seemed to be the case, Gaara had no right (or interest, truth be told) to pry it out of him.

The greenhouse door opened. "What a surprise," Neji stated as he entered the greenhouse. "So we will be having a full lunch party today. Well, almost. Looks like Naruto won't be joining us again today."

Sasuke's indifferent expression took on a touch of irritation at Neji's mention of Naruto. "I do _not_ care that he isn't here."

"I didn't say that you did," Neji said smoothly, plucking a bucket from the corner and upending it to serve as his seat.

Sasuke frowned, and seemed to decide a change of topic was necessary. He transferred his gaze to Gaara, asking, "What happened to your head?"

Strange as it seemed, Gaara had forgotten all about the new kanji on his forehead. He touched the bandage, but the wound beneath barely even stung. "Yesterday after school, Orochimaru-sensei had us recall our memories of training. Mine was… particularly vivid. The sand reenacted the event, and I got a little cut up."

"Orochimaru was helping?" Sasuke questioned with a scowl.

"He has some very interesting theories," Neji said. "And his techniques for recalling past life memories does seem particularly effective. We were able to direct the recovering of specific memories, rather than just recalling them at random."

"You were?" Sasuke looked conflicted. "Show me."

Neji shook his head. "After what happened to Gaara, we said we wouldn't try it again on our own. I'm sure Orochimaru-sensei would be happy to teach it to you himself, though."

"I don't want to talk to him," Sasuke said.

"He seems to want to talk to you," Gaara commented. "Keeps asking if you'll be coming to the meetings. He says he thinks he can help you."

"He was never willing to help me before," Sasuke said darkly. "He wouldn't tell me a damned thing about Itachi. Why would he change his mind now?"

Gaara didn't know the answer to that. "He didn't know you had the sharingan before," he guessed.

"What's a sharingan?" Sasuke asked.

Gaara realized they hadn't gotten around to telling Sasuke anything they'd learned from Orochimaru-sensei about the forgotten techniques of the byakugan and sharingan. "That's what Orochimaru-sensei said your eye trick was called. He said he'd read a lot about it."

"I didn't know it had a name," Sasuke said. "He never told _me._ I wonder if he told Itachi…"

"You could stop by and talk to him today after school," Neji suggested. "He might even be able to help you, like he said. And if he can't, you wouldn't have to come back again."

Sasuke frowned, clearly undecided but wavering. "I'll think about it."

Their conversation turned to other things; the few memories they had recovered, and the history of the hidden villages that Gaara had read about. He wished he had the book with him for examples and to corroborate his point, but remembered he had let his sister borrow it. Still, he managed to blunder through without it. By the time the lunch bell rang, Gaara and Neji were attempting to sketch a rough map of Sunagakure in the dust on the floor, while Sasuke pretended not to care even though he was clearly riveted.

Sasuke took his leave the moment lunch was over, and Gaara didn't bother to ask if Sasuke had decided if he'd be coming to the Ninja Club meeting. He didn't really care one way or another if Sasuke did show up. Though, it might even be better for Gaara if Sasuke _wasn't_ there. He didn't think Sasuke's almost single-minded obsession with his brother Itachi's suicide would make the best impression on Temari and Kankuro.

Neji and Gaara walked back inside the school building together. The hallways were already filling with students returning to their classes from lunch, talking and laughing and making a general din, so Neji and Gaara made their way through in silence. Gaara didn't mind so much. It was as though he and Neji were an oasis amidst the chaos.

Neji walked with Gaara to his locker. Gaara gave the unassuming metal door a brief glare before he opened it, daring there to be another threatening photograph among the contents. But there was nothing. Whoever the photo had been from, it didn't seem as though they had much follow-through. He relaxed a little without realizing he was.

"I'd better get to class," Neji finally said, when they could delay no longer. "I'll see you after school."

Gaara nodded. "It'll go better today." He didn't know which one of them he was reassuring. All the same, he fully believed it to be true. Probably.

Neji nodded, giving Gaara a last smile, before disappearing into the crowds toward his fourth period class. Gaara watched him go, then stuffed the last book into his locker, slammed the door shut, and hurried on his own way.

_.x.x.x._

The rest of Gaara's classes seemed interminably long. Gaara was once again forced to sit on the sidelines in Gym class. They were still doing archery, and Gaara knew that without the sand's help, his aim would be nothing compared to his perfect record from the day before. Many of the other students actually tried coaxing him into taking a few shots at the target, but he stubbornly refused, until at last they gave up. For the most part he spent the period watching the others, who were gradually getting better with their own aiming. Partway through the class, however, Gaara felt as though someone were watching him.

That someone turned out to be Shiten-sensei, who was watching Gaara with an inscrutable look. He didn't even pretend he hadn't been staring when Gaara caught him at it. Their stare down held for several moments, until in the end, Shiten-sensei looked away. But after that, Gaara caught the teacher watching him at least a half dozen more times throughout the class period.

A few minutes before the end of the class, Shiten-sensei dismissed the students back to the locker rooms to change out of their gym clothes. Gaara moved to follow, but the Gym teacher called him back. Gaara walked back over to Shiten-sensei, wondering if the teacher would now explain why he'd been watching him the whole period.

"Neji Hyuuga," Shiten-sensei said without preamble. "You said he's your friend, right?"

Gaara nodded.

"Have you talked to him at all today?"

Curious, Gaara nodded again.

Shiten-sensei frowned. "And did he tell you anything about a letter he wrote to Tashimura?"

Neji hadn't said anything about having written a letter to anyone, much less Tashimura. "No. I haven't heard anything about it."

Shiten-sensei's frown became a full scowl. "Would he have told you, if he had?"

Gaara wasn't sure about that one. Even though he and Neji were dating now, there were things Gaara didn't tell Neji, and he was sure Neji had secrets of his own. "Depends on what it was about."

"Huh." Shiten-sensei looked thoughtful, but said nothing more.

"What is this about, Shiten-sensei?" Gaara finally asked.

Shiten-sensei waved it off. "Nothing, I guess. Tashi called me earlier, said somebody had left a… very peculiar letter on his desk at the end of fourth period. It didn't have a signature, but Tashi's convinced it's from your friend Neji."

"What kind of letter?" Gaara demanded.

He must have sounded a little too demanding, because Shiten-sensei gave him a sharp look. "Nothing you need to be concerned about. I'll talk to Tashi about it. I'm sure he's just overreacting." When Gaara just stood there, Shiten-sensei added. "You can go now."

Gaara went.

He collected his backpack from his gym locker and left for his sixth period class, all the while wondering what was _in_ that anonymous letter Tashimura had received. Whatever was written in that letter, it obviously elicited a reaction from Tashimura that Shiten-sensei was not at all happy about. And if Tashimura thought the letter was from Neji, Gaara could make a pretty fair guess as to what it was about. And he definitely didn't like it.

He'd have to talk to Neji about it after school, Gaara decided as he waited for his Art class to end. Somehow he'd have to make it clear to Neji that Tashimura was not at all as harmless as he seemed. It'd probably be best if Gaara talked to Neji before they went to the Ninja Club meeting. This wasn't the sort of discussion he wanted to have with an audience, especially since Temari and Kankuro were going to be there, possibly even Sasuke.

That determined, the moment the bell rang to signal the end of the school day, Gaara was out of his seat and out the door with all due haste. He even made pretty good time down half of a hallway, before the inevitable crush of the rest of the student body halted him up completely. He was forced to push his was at a snail's pace through the press of bodies, hoping to find Neji at his locker.

But when he finally made it to Neji's locker, Neji wasn't there. Gaara scowled, but wasn't terribly surprised. Getting anywhere quickly in the overcrowded halls was so impossible, it was a waste to even try. Gaara waited a minute or so more, in case Neji hadn't yet been to his locker. But when he didn't show, Gaara gave up and headed back the way he came. Maybe he could get a moment to talk to Neji after the Ninja Club meeting.

The hallways emptied rapidly, as everyone was hurrying to leave for the day, or off to their respective after school activities. Everybody was probably already at Orochimaru-sensei's classroom, wondering where Gaara was. He ought to hurry, since he knew his siblings worried when he was late.

He decided to take a shortcut through the Language Arts hallway. Unlike the other hallways, there were still some students in this hall. Two of them, to be precise. They were crowded close together against one wall, partially hunched over. Gaara couldn't figure out what they were doing at first. As he neared, he realized the two of them were trying to spy through a very slightly open classroom door. Gaara could hear voices coming from inside the classroom as he approached, though he couldn't tell what they were saying, and he wondered what the two boys were trying to watch.

One of the boys looked over as Gaara got near, poking the other boy to draw his attention to the newcomer. Gaara found that he recognized the two of them. It was the boy with the scruffy red-brown hair and his friend, who had been talking to Orochimaru-sensei yesterday when Gaara arrived at the classroom. Their expression both went from amused to hostile when they faced Gaara now. Then the read-head, whom Gaara assumed to be the one Orochimaru-sensei had called Soujishi, smiled at Gaara; a haughty, altogether unpleasant smile.

"So," Soujishi said, keeping his voice low. Gaara assumed he was trying to keep the classroom's occupants from overhearing. "Any idea where your boyfriend is now?"

His friend let out a high laugh at that, and he and Soujishi turned and ran off.

Gaara didn't follow, momentarily stunned. Had they really asked him what he thought they had? And did it have anything to do with whatever they'd been attempting to spy on? Then he realized which classroom it was the two had been trying to peek into.

Tashimura's.

A sense of dread settling over him, Gaara hurried the rest of the way to the classroom door. The voices from inside were unmistakable now; Tashimura's and Neji's.

"I already told you," Neji was saying inside the classroom, "I don't know anything about a letter."

"You don't have to keep pretending," Tashimura said, placating and pleading at the same time. "I could _tell_ it was you who penned that letter. It was such poetry, such beauty. Who else but you could have written it?"

"But I _didn't-_"

"I'd hoped for such a long time you might feel the same," Tashimura murmured, clearly not even hearing Neji's denials. "So many times, I even thought about giving up on you. But I could never stop wanting you, no matter how hard I tried. And now that you love me too-"

"_I don't love you._" Neji all but shouted to be heard over Tashimura's self-involved litany.

"Of course you do," Tashimura said easily. "I know it might feel strange, and sudden, but it isn't, not really. Orochimaru explained everything to me already, why I felt the way I did the moment I saw you, why I dream about you. We knew each other before, in a previous lifetime. We were together before. We loved each other before."

"You're wrong," Neji said. "Maybe we did know each other in that lifetime, but we weren't together. I had someone else then. I have a boyfriend _now_, and I don't love you. Please just forget all about this."

"Don't say that," Tashimura said. His voice took on a hard, angry edge. "Don't you _say_ that. He is filth, he's nothing! He could never deserve you, don't you understand that? He's… he's trying to trick you…"

Gaara had had enough of that. He pushed the door open, drawing the attention of both occupants. Tashimura stood on one side of his desk, while Neji stood on the other, as though instinctively using the bulky, immovable furniture as a shield between them. Neji's expression showed relief at seeing Gaara, while Tashimura's showed nothing but fury.

"How dare you," Tashimura whispered. "How _dare_ you."

Gaara walked to Neji's side, though he kept a wary gaze on the incensed teacher. He took Neji's hand, and Neji did not try to take it back. Gaara was very aware of Shukaku snarling around the edges of his consciousness, testing all of its limits, but Gaara ignored the demon and all its rage. "I think," he said slowly and carefully to Neji, "that we'd better go now."

"Yes," Neji agreed. "I believe you're right."

"I know you," Tashimura whispered, his hateful stare focused solely on Gaara. "I _know_ you now."

"Do you?" Gaara said. "And who am I?"

"You're the monster," Tashimura said, with utter conviction. "I've seen you in my dreams. You took Neji from me. _You destroyed everything._"

"We're leaving now," Gaara said. "This is over. Don't talk to Neji again." There was an unspoken _'or else' _at the end. He tugged at Neji's hand, leading Neji toward the door, and Neji went with him without complaint or comment.

"You can't," Tashimura said. "You can't take him from me again. Not _again!_" He pulled one of the drawers of his desk open, and snatched an object from it.

It was not a pretty knife, no design or embellishment, but it was sharp and every inch deadly. And from the grace with which Tashimura aimed the weapon, it was clear he knew exactly how to use it.

Gaara's gaze was caught by the gleam on the blade, seeing not the knife but a kunai, the weapon that had ended his life so long ago. _"He's going to kill me,"_ Gaara thought with a stunned clarity, as the knife left Tashimura's hand and flew with fatal precision.

Reality lurched sharply sideways, and Gaara hit the ground with a force that rattled all his bones. He stared at the linoleum against his face for a long moment, aware of a sudden silence roaring in his ears. There was a weight pressed against his side, half on top of him, warm and gasping.

"_I smell blood," _Shukaku whispered.

Gaara moved, pushing himself up, and the weight against him fell to the ground with a groan. Neji was curled up on himself, as though protecting the knife buried to the hilt in his chest. His breathing was a harsh gurgle. Blood was quickly staining everything.

"He shouldn't… he shouldn't have protected you." Tashimura's words barely registered in the stunned stasis of Gaara's thoughts. "This is your fault. _Your fault!_ Is he… dead? He can't be… _can't_ be!"

Gaara reached out a shaking hand, touching the hilt of the knife. Neji let out a pained cry even at that tiny touch. Gaara looked at the blood on his fingertips. Neji's blood. _Neji's blood._

Everything fractured.

Gaara's world was black and white and red. There was a howling, a screaming, and the brutal thud of a heartbeat thundering in his mind, drowning out all else. He could feel Shukaku everywhere, in his mind, in his veins, in the very air he breathed. The demon was free.

Gaara's backpack split all its seams, and the sand exploded forth, howling in a torment that echoed the fiercest of storms, a disaster of the worst magnitude, and the despair that pulsed at the very core of Gaara's being. There were bright lights, crimson and black, whirling through the air like wind, so thick he could taste them. The sand grew, and grew, grinding the desks up into tiny granules and incorporating them into itself. Someone amidst it all was screaming.

Gaara stood, and all the chaos surrounding him was calm and clear to his mind. Shukaku was Fury. Gaara was Wrath. The sand was Vengeance. And Tashimura? _Prey._

"_Kill him!"_ Shukaku howled.

"_Kill him!" _Gaara yelled.

The sand screamed like a wild beast and lunged.

Tashimura hit the wall from the force of the sand's strike. It dragged him back, then slammed him against the linoleum. It lifted him, beating him like a rag doll against the ceiling, the desk, the wall, the floor. Bones cracked. Blood flew. The screaming never stopped. Shukaku was laughing, baying, howling, crying. Gaara was watching. In the shattering darkness that consumed him, Gaara knew only one thing. His prey was still moving. So the sand beat it and beat it and beat it until it stopped.

And then everything was still.

Gaara didn't move, staring at the bloody wreck that had once answered to the name Tashimura. The sand fell, carpeting the ground, glittering like millions of microscopic jewels. The silence quit screaming, quit throbbing, and was simply… silent. Light slowly seeped back into the world, though it was tinged gray and red around the edges. Gaara felt empty.

And Neji whispered his name.

"_Neji,"_ Shukaku moaned in return.

Gaara fell to his knees. Neji's eyes were open, flickering, searching. Gaara touched the tears that trickled slowly down Neji's cheek. Then he reached for the knife, and with a swift yank, pulled it free. Neji screamed. Gaara clamped his hands down over the wound, as though he could hold it closed by will alone. He'd never seen so much blood. He had to stop the blood. Neji half-sobbed, gulping at air. After an eon, Neji closed his eyes, and the crying stopped.

Gaara didn't move, pressing down hard on the wound. He could feel Neji's heartbeat, the shallow breathing under his hands. He would stay here forever if he had to.

"Do you hear me, Neji?" Gaara murmured. "I won't leave you. Not ever."

"_Not like this,"_ Shukaku wept. _"It wasn't supposed to end like this."_

Gaara heard the high wailing of sirens in the distance, drawing closer. A lot of them, it sounded like. Someone must have heard all the noise in the classroom and called the police. Gaara hoped they would get there soon. Neji needed help, more help than Gaara could provide.

Gaara looked up when utter pandemonium descended upon the tiny classroom. There were men in police uniform, other teachers, curious students gawking around the edges. They were all talking at once. Gaara just watched them in silence. One of the police officers tried to take Neji from him. Gaara had to resist the urge to bite him. In the end, they had to almost forcibly drag Gaara away from Neji, and it was only because he knew these men would help Neji that in the end Gaara allowed them to lead him.

Somewhere amidst the crowd, there was a boy with scruffy red-brown hair talking to one of the policemen. "_He did it_!" Soujishi wailed, his accusations ringing above the din. "He stabbed that other boy, and beat the crap out of Tashimura-sensei! For no reason at all! He's completely insane! He tried to kill them both!"

Gaara could hear more sirens now, and he hoped one of them belonged to an ambulance.

One of the policemen drew Gaara off to a corner. "Okay," the man said, trying to talk to Gaara above all the noise. "What exactly happened in here?"

"Is Neji going to be okay?" Gaara asked.

"Hard to tell yet," the man said. "Do you want to tell me what happened here?"

"I'm very tired," Gaara said, and he realized it was true. "I think I'd like to sleep. Am I under arrest?"

The officer sighed, casting a rueful look over the state of the room. "Let's get you out of here. We'll put you in a safe place for now." The other policemen were dealing with clearing out all the gawkers, and the officer led Gaara out of the room.

"Gaara!" Temari's voice called out through the crowds.

Gaara turned, blinking at his sister as though seeing her for the first time. "I hurt someone again, Temari. I'm sorry."

"We'll move again, Gaara!" Temari called, desperation ringing in her tone. "You'll see. We'll move, just like we always do, and it'll all be okay again."

"No," Gaara said. He turned away, allowing the police to lead him away to his uncertain fate. "Not this time."


	19. Case File: Sasuke

"_This is so stupid,"_ Sasuke thought, as he took the stairs up two at a time. By this time of day, he ought to be on his way home, to keep up the appearance to his parents that he had been spending his day dutifully attending classes as he ought.

After all this time, they still hadn't discovered that Sasuke had dropped out. He wondered if they ever would. When Itachi had been alive, Sasuke would never have gotten away with shirking his education. Not that he would have tried. But now that Itachi was gone, it seemed his parents no longer cared what their youngest son was up to. They spent their lives in a daze of mourning. Itachi had been everything to them, and Sasuke had only been a poor imitation.

So it probably wouldn't matter if Sasuke was late getting home this once. And this was important. He'd been looking for answers for such a long time, and now it seemed he might be on the verge of getting them. Even if he wasn't too thrilled about the source of those answers.

Originally, all he'd wanted was to get his hands on the books Gaara had. Since the beginning of Sasuke's search, begun shortly after Itachi's suicide, there had been a depressing lack of progress. He'd haunted the gates of the school while classes were in session, as though watching the building itself would somehow make everything clear to him. He knew somehow Orochimaru had the information he sought. Getting it from the creepy teacher, however, was another matter. How much had Itachi told Orochimaru before his suicide? Had Orochimaru known that Itachi would kill himself, and more importantly, _why_ Itachi had felt the need to? What had Itachi meant in his suicide letter, that he'd lived too many lives, and hurt Sasuke in every one of them? _Was Itachi's death Sasuke's fault?_

But Orochimaru wasn't talking. And Sasuke didn't know where else to turn.

And then he'd learned about the books. Books that Orochimaru had had in his possession, and had passed on to Gaara. Sasuke didn't know, at first, how these could possibly be connected to him. But he felt that they were, somehow. This history, this world, bizarre as it sounded, with its ninjas and powers that seemed like magic, felt real to Sasuke. Connected to him. As though he had _been there._

He never really did get a good look at the books, Sasuke reflected as he moved through the school hallways. Today he would convince Gaara to let him have them, so he could devote an adequate time to studying them. But that could wait, until after he learned this new technique for reaching past memories from Orochimaru.

Somehow it always came back to that man, Sasuke thought with some disgust. Sasuke had always thought that the teacher was creepy, and was glad to have never had any of his classes. Itachi had seemed to think highly of Orochimaru, but whenever Sasuke had been in the same room as him, he'd felt… disturbed. As though he were some small creature being regarded by a snake, frozen by its stare, helplessly awaiting its inevitable, sudden strike.

But that was silly. Orochimaru was only a history teacher, albeit one with a peculiar book collection and an interest in ninjas and past lives. Not really anything to be worried about. And Sasuke may be a student now, but in a past life, he'd been a ninja. And a murderer.

Unwillingly, his thoughts tripped back to the small article Gaara had shown him in the history book of the hidden villages. The top ten most notorious missing-nin of Konoha. With Sasuke Uchiha at the top of the list.

_Murdered his family. Every man, woman and child. _

That was a lie. Sasuke may not have recovered many memories of his past life, but he _couldn't_ have done what the book said he had. Maybe there had been some other Sasuke Uchiha, someone else that had done those terrible things, that only coincidentally had the same name as him.

Sasuke wanted to believe that more than anything. But if he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could almost see it. Blood on the walls, across the floor. Piles of bodies, awkwardly collapsed like marionettes with cut strings. Death smothering everything and choking the air in his lungs. He always quickly pushed these visions away, but he feared deep down they were more than mere fantasy. That someone in that long distant past _had_ murdered his family. And the book said that someone was him.

So far, all the books had given him were more questions, rather than answers. It seemed to him that to truly get to the truth, he would have to experience it firsthand. He would have to recover his memories of those events. Even if they proved to be more than he could handle.

And for that, regrettably, he needed Orochimaru's help.

The hallways were mostly empty now. All of the students had gone home, or were already at their after school activities. Though he had ceased attending his classes over a year ago, Sasuke still remembered the layout of the school. Which hallways were least used, where all the shortcuts were. Sasuke took the long route toward his destination, to avoid any sort of confrontation. He kept the hood of his sweatshirt on to keep from being recognized, just in case. He didn't want to start another mob scene like he had the other day at lunch. But he didn't encounter anyone in the halls. He'd waited until the right time to visit the school he'd so long been absent from. The others might be thinking he wasn't going to show up by this point, but he wasn't concerned about making them wait. They weren't really his _friends_, after all. He didn't have any friends. He hadn't had anything since Itachi died.

He reached the third floor of the building, staring down the hallway at the classroom where the Ninja Club was meeting. He could still turn back, he told himself. He could still try to recover his memories without Orochimaru's help. Surely one of the others would eventually be willing to teach him the techniques he needed. He'd already waited so long; what was a few weeks, a few months longer?

But he knew in the end, all thought of leaving was mere stalling. He would have to go in that classroom and face both the enigmatic snake of a teacher, and a past he could not yet remember. And somewhere between the two, he hoped his answers would be waiting.

He opened the door to the classroom and went in. Orochimaru looked up from the book he was reading, already looking delighted to see who his visitor was. Sasuke ignored him for a moment, looking around the classroom in confusion. The others weren't even here. There was a strange smell permeating the classroom, something that gave Sasuke a mild, muddled headache, and he realized it emanated from a few sticks of incense burning from a little holder on Orochimaru's desk.

"I'm pleased you decided to come today," Orochimaru said, closing his book and standing.

"Where are Gaara and Neji?" Sasuke asked. This was awkward. He'd been expecting the other two to be here, at least. His confidence was considering a change of heart when contemplating facing this alone. He quickly firmed his resolve. He did _not_ care if the others were here or not, he reminded himself. It was just peculiar that they weren't, and that was all.

"Not here yet," Orochimaru said with regret. "I was starting to wonder if they had changed their minds about attending today. I'm glad I decided to wait for them a bit longer, however. It is good to see you again."

"I'm sure," Sasuke muttered. He was starting to get that unsettled feeling again. As though he were prey for something much larger than him. Something hungry. Or maybe he was imagining it. The smell from the incense was warping his thoughts. He wondered if they were for the technique Gaara and Neji had told him about. "I was told you had a method for reaching very specific past memories, recalling them vividly."

"That does seem to be the case," Orochimaru agreed. "I'm sure your friends told you, when Gaara attempted it yesterday, it did produce particularly intense results. I've been attempting to refine it into something… somewhat less dangerous. Of course I won't know if I've succeeded without some experimentation. A shame the others elected not to come today."

"I came to try it," Sasuke said.

Orochimaru looked surprised, but not displeased. "Excellent. Unexpected, of course, but not unwelcome. The last time we talked, I got the impression you weren't very pleased with me. I am sorry I wasn't able to provide you with more information. What was that, over a year ago now? Have you found the answers you sought?"

"That's what I'm here for." Sasuke grit his teeth, resisting the urge to throw something heavy at the teacher. This was one of the things he'd hated about the man. Sasuke always felt he could hear a world of condescension behind Orochimaru's ever-polite tone. It had always irritated him that no one else seemed to notice. Orochimaru was a smug bastard, and there was nothing to convince Sasuke otherwise.

"Then I hope you find them," Orochimaru said. "And I hope you can handle them when you do. Shall we begin? You'll need to get comfortable."

Sasuke picked one of the student desks and sat down, trying to arrange himself into a comfortable position while Orochimaru got ready to test his experiment. Sasuke once again found himself considering leaving. It was one thing to be caught in the grip of his past memories when there were two others there with him, quite another to be left helpless while he was on his own. He didn't know what Orochimaru might attempt, but Sasuke didn't trust him. The question was, did his distrust of Orochimaru outweigh his need for answers?

He decided it didn't, and so he relaxed in his seat and closed his eyes.

The smell of incense got stronger, and it gave Sasuke a headache that seemed to creep in from all sides of his brain. A soft music started to play, a pleasant melody overlaid with a chant, in a strange language Sasuke couldn't quite grasp. It all seemed very mystical and very, very useless.

"You need to breathe evenly." Orochimaru's voice seemed to float in the air, mingling with the soft music. "You're still too tense. Relax. Think about your questions, what you want to know. The answers are there, waiting for you. Follow the questions into your past. Let your memories call you back. Become again what you once were."

_My questions?_ Sasuke felt like his head was splitting, the incense causing his mind to throb. The air felt heavy, and it was hard to breathe. Hard to think. He couldn't remember what his questions were. _What did I want to know?_

A vision swam into his mind, the briefest glimpse of a memory he'd had the day before. A memory of forest and seeking, hunting. Hunting Naruto down, like an animal, like prey. To kill him, if necessary.

_Why?_ Sasuke wondered, as the vision faded away and with it, reality. He was falling into darkness, down that deep path into a long ago life. _Why was I hunting him?_

And the memory consumed him.

_.x.x.x._

The forest that surrounded Konoha seemed bigger now than it had when Sasuke was a child. He didn't understand how that could be. Coming back to it now after so many years, he was grown, and part of him had expected that the forest would have lost some of its grand majesty along the way, its imposing dignity and mystery somehow shadowed by his adult cynicism. But the forest was every bit as daunting and regal as it had seemed to him when he was first allowed to see beyond the walls of the village.

He let it fill him, that feeling of awe, of being so small and insignificant compared to a force of nature that had been there long before he was born, and would continue to endure long after. Sometimes that feeling could overwhelm him and leave him trembling if he let it, and when he had the time, he did. It was nice in a way, to feel it. To feel anything, now.

He'd always thought there would be more, after he'd succeeded in avenging his family and killing Itachi. He'd always thought of the hatred as a wall surrounding his heart, blocking out the rest of the world. He'd needed that wall, in order to do what he had to. But when Itachi was dead, and the wall had crumbled, he'd been surprised to find there was nothing beyond it but a wasteland. He'd expected to _feel_ something. Triumph maybe, or at least relief. But in the shadows of his completed ambitions, he found no such emotions to comfort him. There was only emptiness, and cold.

Sasuke had wandered, for a long time after that. He had no particular destination, and nothing to do when he got there. He moved through his life like a man in lost in a dream. Nothing interested him, and so he moved from place to place, aimless and uncaring. Still, something faint tugged on him, drawing his steps reluctantly back the way he had come, returning him at long last to where it had all begun. Konoha.

He'd been in the forest for three months now, watching from the far outskirts as life in the village went on without him, with far more enthusiasm and color than Sasuke had experienced in longer than he could remember. He watched the shinobi making their patrols of the forest, various teams leaving to and returning from missions. None of them ever saw him. He could spend the rest of his life here, so close to the village wall he could touch it, and none of them would ever know he was there. Not unless he wanted them to.

Sasuke still hadn't figured out what he was doing there. After the way he'd left, after all the things he'd done, he wasn't at all certain he would be welcomed back. Or if he'd want to stay, even if he were. Long ago, there had been a second part to his life's mission. Killing Itachi came first, of course, but afterward… if he'd survived, he'd meant to dedicate the rest of his existence to renewing the Uchiha Clan. He wasn't going to let it die out, even if he had to rebuild the entire clan from scratch. He would not be the last.

But somewhere in the miasma of hatred and revenge, that part of his goal had lost its luster, to the point of almost being forgotten. He brought it out now, and examined its sad, worn-out hopefulness. It would serve him right, he decided, if he really were the last Uchiha. It seemed wrong somehow, to intrude upon the territory of his family's ghosts, trying to fill the void with new light and life. As if he were trying to replace them. As if he were trying to _forget_ them.

And after the lengths he'd gone to, acquiring the power he had needed, even bringing his clan to a new flourishing life would not absolve him from his sins. He did not ask forgiveness for the things he had done; loathsome as they were, they were necessary. He'd understood that from the beginning. But those things had changed him, and he didn't know if he was capable now of settling down to live a quiet life, with a family. Even if he had deserved such peace, which he knew he did not. No, it would be better to forget it.

But with that last little goal quietly wrapped back in its tattered cloth and set aside, it left Sasuke with nothing. Nothing but the forest, and the shadows cast over it by the village wall.

Sometimes he saw people he recognized, in the silent, furtive traffic that moved to and from the village. He watched them a lot, marveling over how much they'd grown and changed in the time he was gone. He wondered if they would find the changes in him quite so remarkable. He saw Sakura quite frequently, returning to the village only to leave again soon after, as if she couldn't stand to stay for too long. He didn't recognize the people she traveled with; apparently she'd wound up with a new team since he'd left. Kakashi he saw less often; he wondered if Kakashi just didn't take many missions these days, or if he was just that good at hiding his presence. He saw many of the others from his class in the academy, though of course they would have all advanced past genin now. All of them invaluable assets to Konoha, as Sasuke had given up on being.

It had taken him a whole month to realize that at least one person was missing from that panorama of ninja life. In all the time he'd been in the forest, he'd not caught a single glimpse of Naruto.

He'd brushed it off, at first. Naruto could be in the midst of an extensive mission, one that required his presence away from the village for more than a month or so. It didn't really matter to him what Naruto was up to. From the moment he'd met the blond, Naruto had been nothing more than an annoyance in Sasuke's life. An annoyance with more potential than Sasuke could ever claim. An annoyance that had, on occasion, saved his life.

It was possible that Naruto had gotten married, perhaps, and started a family. Though Sasuke found the thought of Naruto settling down to be unlikely, in any sense of the phrase. For all he knew, Naruto could be out in the world somewhere at that very moment… looking for Sasuke.

Naruto still did that on occasion, as far as Sasuke knew. Ever since Sasuke had left the village, Naruto had come after him, to bring him back. Sasuke didn't want to be brought back of course, and not by Naruto especially. He'd had too much to do, things he could not accomplish by staying in Konoha and being one of their pet ninjas. And Naruto and his insistence on bringing Sasuke back were just annoyances. So Sasuke avoided Naruto when he could, fought him when he had to, and for the most part, did his best to forget that Naruto had ever existed. He realized now, it had actually been years since he'd last seen Naruto. Maybe Naruto had finally done the smart thing and given up on Sasuke.

And realizing that, should have been the end of it. But beyond all odds and all reason, the curiosity persisted. It might have been the months spent in idleness, with nothing to do but wait in the forest's shadows and watch. So much time spent doing nothing, feeling nothing, perhaps it was only natural that his mind was trying to fill the void. Maybe it was just the close proximity to a life he'd long ago abandoned that was stirring this nonsense up from the depths he'd condemned it to. The thoughts about Naruto, about everyone Sasuke had left behind, were steadily becoming a constant itch that might drive him mad if he did not satisfy it.

Of all the village, there may be only one person now that he could approach. One person who would not have condemned him as a traitor, or would at least hold out enough hope for him that they would listen to what he had to say before coming to any conclusion. Or at least, he hoped that would be the case. After so many years of his absence, giving her a chance to grow out of her childish infatuation with him, who knew what Sakura thought of him now?

Still, she had been his teammate once, and the most soft-hearted of the team. He doubted there was anything on this earth that would make Sakura cold enough to lose faith completely. And so he determined he would talk to her, and see what had gone on in the village while he was gone. It wasn't much of a goal, but it was something, and he found just having an objective of any sort soothed him a little. Planning a course of action and executing it was something he could do, something he was good at. Something he could cling to when he had nothing else.

It was two weeks more before his chance came along. Sakura and her team were returning to the village from a mission, or wherever it was that she left to so often these days. Her two teammates were with her, but Sasuke didn't give them too much thought. If Sakura recognized him, she wouldn't let them attack him. And if she didn't, or had hardened her heart against him, then at least he would have one answer.

He followed them for a ways as they approached the village. They didn't seem to be in a particular hurry. Whatever the mission was must have gone well enough, because there was little evidence of injury on any of them. But there was no exuberance for a job well done, or excitement at returning to their home after so long away. Sakura in particular seemed subdued, as she often was these last few times Sasuke had spied upon her.

Deciding he'd followed the group as close to the village as he dared, Sasuke stopped where he was and let out a low whistle, clear enough to be heard by the group, but not to carry far enough to alert any sentries in the area. And definitely not a sound that could be mistaken for birdsong.

The three ninja froze, alert in an instant, like cats scenting prey. Almost as one, they turned toward the source of the sound, weapons appearing in their hands as though by magic. An unexpected and unknown entity had just alerted them to its presence, and like any ninja, they were instantly prepared for battle should that entity prove itself to be foe. Sasuke held no weapons as he stepped out of his hiding place, to prove he had no intention of fighting. Though just as they could, he could become deadly in an instant should the need arise. But he doubted it would.

The two boys with Sakura both stared at Sasuke with matching suspicion. Up close, Sasuke noticed a lot of similarity in the two, their brown hair only a shade apart, their facial characteristics close enough in style that it marked the two as brothers, or at least very closely related. As Sasuke didn't know them, it was clear that neither of them recognized him either. Both of them were ready and willing to strike him down the moment he gave them reason to.

But neither of them were important. If it came to a fight, Sasuke had little doubt of who would be the one to survive. A fight was not what he was here for, however. Sasuke ignored the two boys, focusing his attention on the third member of the party.

Sakura looked… stunned. From the way she looked at him- as though he were a ghost- Sasuke was pretty sure she recognized him. Her two team members noticed her astonished expression, the both of them looking to her as their leader, awaiting her command.

"Go get Kakashi," Sakura whispered, speaking to her comrades though her eyes never left Sasuke.

"But-!" one of the boys protested.

"Who is he?" the other one demanded at the same time.

"Just go!" Sakura said, a little more forcefully. She gave the two brothers a quick look and a vague smile that was probably meant to be reassuring. "I'll be fine. I know him."

Though neither of the two boys looked convinced, they took her at her word and disappeared- almost literally, slipping into the shadows of the forest like the trained ninja they were, without a sound. Sakura remained where she was, still holding her weaponry, though it seemed she'd forgotten it was in her hands. She made no attempts at hiding her emotions; they were displayed clearly on her face for Sasuke to read. She was wary, hopeful, confused. And tired. There was a weariness, an exhaustion not of the body but the soul, that seemed to permeate the very air before her. What had happened to change her so much in the time Sasuke had been gone?

"So," Sakura finally spoke to Sasuke. "I wasn't expecting to see you again."

"I hadn't intended to come back," he said, simply.

She nodded. "I thought as much. It's been a long time, Sasuke. After so many years, I was about ready to give up on you. I think everyone was." She smiled then, wistfully. "Well, except Naruto, of course. You know, he always said you'd return someday. After everything, he never doubted, when he of all people should have…" Sakura looked away then, but not before Sasuke saw the change in her expression. It was _pain_, and loss, so fresh and vivid in Sakura's face Sasuke could almost feel it for himself, and it stole the breath from his lungs.

"What happened to Naruto?" Sasuke asked. Demanded, really. Something had happened to the blond idiot. That's why Sasuke hadn't seen him, in all the time he'd spent lurking outside the village.

"Have you heard about what happened in Suna?" Sakura asked.

Sasuke nodded. He'd heard a lot of things in his wandering. It hadn't been all that long ago, nine or ten months, perhaps. "I heard it was struck by some sort of plague. Most everyone died, and in the end, the village was burned to the ground. Was Naruto there?"

"It wasn't a plague," Sakura said, anger seeping in to replace the sadness in her voice. "Someone _poisoned_ Suna. But… we found out too late. Naruto went in to tell Gaara and Neji."

"Neji?" Sasuke asked.

"Yeah, remember him?" Sakura said. "A year older, he was in the chuunin exams with us. I'm not sure you were there for his fights, though. Sometime after you left, he and Gaara got married and Neji moved to Suna. Surprised you didn't hear about it."

"I wasn't exactly keeping up with gossip," Sasuke said.

Sakura nodded and continued with her story. "When Naruto finally found the two of them, they were… dead. Murdered. And you know how Naruto is, or was, about people hurting his friends. He just lost it. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Even from where I was, I could _feel_ the surge of chakra. It was… inhuman. It was like the wrath of a vengeful god. The village was leveled. Naruto was the only one that came out of there alive, and even he was… wrong, somehow. It was like there was something else looking out through his eyes." She shivered at the memory. "He didn't talk much about what happened in the village, just that Gaara and Neji had been killed. I'd never seen Naruto so shattered. I hoped we'd be able to bring him back from whatever brink he'd pushed himself to. But then Shikamaru died."

Sasuke only remembered a little about Shikamaru. He too was considered a genius, though he seemed one of the laziest students in their class. When he was younger, Sasuke had held a small resentment toward the other boy, for making everything seem so easy. Sasuke was a good ninja, but still he'd had to _work_ for it. Shikamaru had the audacity to _sleep_ through class. But that small resentment had never been enough to flourish into full hatred, and so Sasuke had contented himself to ignore the other's very existence. That had served just fine. It certainly didn't surprise him that Naruto and Shikamaru had kept up a friendship over all these years.

Sakura sniffled, and Sasuke realized she was desperately holding back her tears. Her words were soft and steady when she spoke, but Sasuke could tell the effort she was putting in to keep from crying. "I should have been able to save Shikamaru. He'd gotten poisoned too, and I worked so hard to find the antidote… I _should_ have been able to!" A lone tear escaped her fight to ward them off, and she scrubbed it off her cheek quickly.

She seemed so wrapped up in her misery for failing her friends, Sasuke thought she might say no more. "And Naruto?" he prompted her.

Sakura shook her head. "Naruto just up and left. He didn't even stay for the funeral. I would have thought he'd at least have been there for that. But it's like he was broken. He destroyed Suna, and he didn't even care. He didn't seem to care about _anything_ after that. Some people thought… that Naruto might be merging with the demon. It scared a lot of people, and a lot of people were relieved when he left. No one has been able to find him, since. Everyone's… kind of given up on him." _Like they'd given up on Sasuke. _

If Naruto had really disappeared after Suna's downfall, then he'd been gone for almost a year now. Whatever had happened to Naruto then clearly hadn't gotten better, or the blond idiot surely would have returned by now. Wouldn't he?

"Sasuke?" Sakura asked as Sasuke turned and started to walk away. "Where are you going now?"

"I'm going to find him," Sasuke said.

She called after him, but didn't follow, as once more Sasuke left his once-home behind.

He couldn't say for certain what exactly pressed him to search out the idiot he might or might not have once considered a friend. It just didn't seem right that Naruto was out there somewhere, either alive or dead, and everyone had just stopped looking for him. Naruto…One of the things Sasuke remembered very clearly about the annoying blond, was that Naruto never gave up on _anyone_. Not even Sasuke, not even when he should have. So this, Sasuke decided, was something he owed Naruto. He would find him, and bring him back.

Or, if Naruto was broken as Sakura said he was, if Naruto was no longer Naruto but something cold and empty inside… demonic… well, then Sasuke would do what he had to. Even if he had to kill him.

_.x.x.x._

Sasuke hunted.

Little else existed to him, then. It was a purpose, a self-imposed mission, and nothing else seemed to matter. Sasuke visited the ruins of Suna. This was where Naruto's deterioration had begun. There wasn't much left. Only a handful of buildings still stood, and those were little more than skeletons of the original structures. All else lay crumbled and scattered, as though it had been torn down by a giant child and strewn about like so many broken toys. Sasuke walked amid the debris, and the only living things he saw, now and again, were snakes and scorpions.

There were signs of his quarry there. A path of footprints, melted permanently into the street. Shadows, vaguely human shaped, scorched against a few fallen walls. Some of these eerie shapes showed tails, many tails. When Sasuke had been Naruto's teammate, he had once seen Naruto in the grip of Kyuubi's will and madness. It was a power Sasuke had never seen matched, something he'd known, instinctively, that he'd never be able to compete with, no matter how hard he tried or how many years he trained. But looking around at this fallen village, this ruin so cleansed by fire and fury that surely not even the ghosts remained… Sasuke knew what he'd seen as a child barely scratched the surface of Naruto- and Kyuubi's- true power.

He left the dead world behind and continued his hunt. He had to find Naruto now. Naruto was too dangerous to be allowed to live.

_.x.x.x._

It was raining. Sasuke hardly noticed. The forest was swallowed by darkness and rain, and nothing else existed beyond that. Sasuke stood at the mouth of a cave, and firelight beckoned from within. This was where the hunt had finally led him. It had been months of endless searching, following rumors and faint markings left in the wake of something unearthly, something ghastly passing through. The country was full of legends and myths of demons and beasts. Every man, woman and child he had spoken to could name a dozen different creatures supposedly residing within these woods. None dared come near the place. And so it would be the perfect sanctuary for the real thing to take refuge in.

Sasuke hadn't seen any of the beasts or demons he'd been warned haunted every shadow. Though he could see why such a place would feature in so many of the villagers' tales. It was dark and overgrown, seeming to conceal a million secrets within its myriad of branches, none of which it would give up willingly or without cost. But despite its ominous nature, Sasuke passed through encountering nothing more exotic than a lone wolf, which watched him silently from where it hovered around its recent kill, but made no move to attack when Sasuke left it be.

The cave, and the light dancing within, promised refuge from the rain and answers to his questions. But there was something inside, he could feel, that was not as benign as it seemed. There was a smell of blood and sickness that wafted out from within. A chakra that throbbed like a heartbeat. A despair and a pain that Sasuke could taste.

Sasuke went inside.

The air was thick and foul the deeper he went in. The light no longer seemed so welcoming. Sasuke followed the long narrow passage in, until the tunnel widened into a cavern, a den of sorts. And there Sasuke found his quarry, his prey.

Naruto was crouched over like an animal. Chakra poured off him in palpable waves. Sasuke saw that the light was not from a fire; the heat of Naruto's chakra had lit all the rocks a glowing red. Naruto was naked, and his skin was blackened in many places from the scorching temperature. Sasuke didn't think he'd be able to get too close. It was already like an oven within the small confines of the cave. And Naruto's very body was the source of it.

"Naruto?" Sasuke said.

"Not here." Naruto's voice was harsh and wrong, like he'd swallowed gravel and shards of glass. "He's not here, anymore."

"Where is he?" asked Sasuke.

"Dead," said the thing that was once Naruto. "Dead, dead. You're too late." It looked up, its eyes baleful and red. Demon's eyes. This was not Naruto, not anymore. This was Kyuubi. The demon. It laughed at the expression on his face, and it sounded like boulders grating together. "Too late!"

Kyuubi shuddered, as the flesh on his arm boiled outward like a bulging cancer. It burst seconds later, the blood gushing like a geyser and sizzling as it hit the over-heated stone floor. Kyuubi clamped a hand over the wound, and the blood subsided. When he removed the hand, the flesh was livid red with twisted scar tissue, but it was whole once more. The demon panted, offering Sasuke a crooked grin.

"Have you come to kill me, too?" Kyuubi growled. "There have been others…" It gestured to a pile of blackened sticks in the corner. It was only when Sasuke noticed the skulls among them that he realized these were human bones.

"What happened to Naruto?" Sasuke said.

"Died," the demon said shortly.

"How?"

"He could not… handle it. In his fury and pain, he accessed my power. He's done it many times before, to no ill affect… but the seal weakened every time he did. This time… under that pressure, it cracked open. I was set free within him. But a mortal body was never meant to hold all that I am. He's only had a little bit at a time, before, and even that was almost too much. Such small, such limited forms. So fragile." Kyuubi shook his head, letting out a low, keening growl. "He was burned away to nothing, and I was left with a broken shell to inhabit. It's all I can do to hold it together." As if to prove the demon's point, several more gushers of blood erupted from his back, and Kyuubi laughed in pain.

Sasuke looked at the demon, the mangled form Naruto's body was becoming, just trying to hold in something too big, too _other_ for it to contain. "Why are you doing this? Why bother holding it all together? There's no point."

Kyuubi stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "For when he comes back," it said. As if Sasuke should have known that.

"Who?"

"Naruto," said the demon. "For when… he comes back."

"He's dead," Sasuke said. "That's what you told me. Humans don't come back from the dead. Naruto's gone. You should… you should stop this. It'll kill you."

"Naruto spoke to me," the demon whispered. "When he learned… that I was there… he spoke to me. He didn't fear me. He didn't hate me… He said we could be friends, if I wanted." Its red eyes were fierce and determined as it stared Sasuke down. Even broken, Sasuke could feel its power. Such incredible power. "Naruto was my friend, and he does not abandon his friends. He'll come back for me!"

Kyuubi coughed, spitting blood to sizzle across the floor. It wiped at its mouth. "I remember you. I told Naruto that you were never coming back. He didn't believe me, though. He always said, one day you'd return." It quirked that same, crooked smile. "He was right, it seems."

It was too bad, Sasuke thought, that Naruto didn't live to see his prediction come true. And no matter what the demon said, Naruto wouldn't be coming back now. All that was left was Naruto's shattered body, and a demon trying to wear it as though it were clothing a hundred sizes too small.

"You should let go," Sasuke advised Kyuubi.

"Have… to wait… for Naruto." Kyuubi wasn't going to give up on Naruto. The demon would hold together Naruto's dead body for as long as it could, and maybe it could keep it up forever. It was just… too sad, to watch the demon do this to itself. Somehow, Sasuke felt he couldn't leave it like this, waiting endlessly in torment for someone who would never return. The demon would lose its mind, lose itself completely. Sasuke could already see it happening.

"Naruto doesn't know where you are," Sasuke said. "He can't find you. You should go find him, instead. Leave the body behind. It'll slow you down."

Kyuubi stared at him. "I should… go to him." It nodded gravely. "I will find him!"

It laughed, and the body seemed to come apart, like a rag doll suddenly bursting all its seams. Blood spattered against the walls, against Sasuke, but Sasuke forced himself not to retreat or look away. What was once Naruto- what was now only ruins, just like Suna- caught fire from the heat within it.

It blazed high and brightly, and then it burned itself out as abruptly as it had begun. The body was blackened, its skin peeling off in charred strips, and yet somehow, it still lived. Sasuke could see the rise and fall of its chest as it breathed. It looked at Sasuke then, and its eyes were blue.

"You came back," Naruto whispered. "I knew you would. I always believed it." He closed his eyes, and then he breathed no more. Naruto, and Kyuubi, were dead.

Sasuke left the cave. His hunt was at an end.

_.x.x.x._

Sasuke probably should have been surprised to find Kakashi waiting for him when he exited the cave, but he wasn't. Somehow it just seemed natural for his once-teacher to be there, leaning against a tree and waiting. Waiting for what, Sasuke couldn't say.

"So," Kakashi finally said, in an almost light-hearted tone that Sasuke remembered well. "It's over now, is it?"

"I found Naruto," Sasuke said. "He's dead."

"It's for the best," said Kakashi. "Even Kyuubi couldn't have kept that up forever. At least now they can both have some peace."

"You knew he was in there?" That didn't surprise Sasuke either.

"I've known for a long time. I was the one that found him, shortly after he disappeared. Kyuubi was too broken to leave the cave, no longer a threat to anyone. He said he wasn't ready to die yet, and that he'd kill me if I tried anything. Said he was going to wait here, for Naruto, as long as it took. So I let him," Kakashi said, in a casualness that didn't fool Sasuke for a minute. Killing Kyuubi would have been a mercy to the demon, but Kakashi had seen too many friends die in his lifetime. Sasuke didn't know if Kakashi would have been able to take the life of the demon, even if Kyuubi had wanted him to. Then again, he may not be giving his former teacher enough credit. "When Sakura told me she'd seen you, and that you'd gone to look for Naruto, I knew you'd find this place eventually."

"Have you been waiting here for me this whole time?"

Sasuke imagined Kakashi was smiling his bland smile behind the mask. "You think I have nothing better to do?" he asked.

That didn't answer Sasuke's question, but he let it go. "You should take Naruto's body back to Konoha," he said. Naruto wouldn't have wanted to be left out here. Konoha had been everything to Naruto when he'd been alive. It was only proper he should returned home.

Kakashi was silent for a thoughtful moment. Finally he straightened from his relaxed posture, and moved toward the cave. He paused at the entrance, and commented off-handedly, "He'd want you to come to the funeral."

"I didn't think I'd be welcome." He'd been away for so long. They'd have declared him rogue by now, surely, no matter how Naruto had advocated for him.

"You'll find a lot can be forgiven, when you have the right people on your side," Kakashi said, as if in answer to Sasuke's unspoken thoughts. "Where else do you have to go?"

Nowhere. Sasuke hadn't belonged _anywhere_ in years. There was nothing left for him out in the world now, but to wander and be alone. Be empty. Doing nothing, feeling nothing. Even if the whole on Konoha attacked him on sight, it might be better than the alternative. But if Kakashi was correct in his insinuations… if Sasuke really _could_ return…

It gave him a lot to think about as he and Kakashi bundled up the remains of Naruto's body in silence. There wasn't much left of it, and it weighed hardly anything. Sasuke had to keep reminding himself that all the ashes and bones were someone he once knew. Once a blond, loudmouthed idiot. Once his rival. Once his friend.

Kakashi and Sasuke didn't talk as they worked, each of them lot in their own thoughts. It didn't seem to take long at all to pack up the body, and it was over all too soon. It was time for Sasuke to make his decision.

Once again speaking as though he could read Sasuke's mind, Kakashi asked, "What will you do now?"

"I'll come to the funeral," Sasuke said.

Kakashi nodded. "And then?"

Sasuke looked up toward the canopy of tree leaves, suddenly realizing it was no longer raining. "I've done all I planned to do with my life. My dream, if you could call it that, is over. Naruto died without ever seeing his dream fulfilled. And so, I think, I will live out that dream for him. At least I can give him that much," Sasuke said. "I will become the next Hokage."

If Sasuke could once more gain admittance into Konoha… if he could gain the trust and respect of the villagers… if he could become the greatest ninja of all the village and be its protector… That, he was sure, was a worthy goal to dedicate his life to. He imagined Naruto would have approved.

_.x.x.x._

"_Sasuke?"_ A voice was calling him up from the void, calling him out of one world to return to where he belonged. _"Time to wake up now."_

The memory relinquished him with a suddenness that left him gasping awake. Vision of the classroom swam in and out in a blur, before reality righted himself. He wasn't in that past life any longer. He wasn't a ninja, wasn't a hunter, certainly wasn't Hokage. He was a high school dropout sitting in an uncomfortable chair, and he was cold.

The windows were open, Sasuke realized blearily. The scent of the incense was fading. He was back in the real world. His head hurt.

Orochimaru was sitting on top of the sturdy bulk of the teacher's desk, watching him intently. "Did you have a nice dream?"

Sasuke rubbed at his temples, willing his headache to dissipate. To his relief, it did. But with its fading, it allowed him to see clearly just what it was he'd uncovered from his past life. It all spun through his head unceasingly, with a clarity that was painful. Hunting. Blood. Death. _Naruto._

Not exactly what he would term a nice dream.

"I asked you a question, Sasuke," Orochimaru said. "Or should I call you Lord Hokage?"

Sasuke looked up at him sharply. "What?" How did Orochimaru know what Sasuke had remembered?

"You talk in your sleep," Orochimaru said. He wasn't at all the polite teacher any longer. Something had definitely changed. "But I didn't need to hear your hypnotized mumblings to know what became of you in your past life. I remember it quite well. You succeeded, you know. In becoming Hokage. Did you really do so for the sake of your stupid dead friend, or simply as a final attempt to one-up him? You always were so jealous of him. Laughable, really, how badly you wanted to be better than Naruto."

Sasuke jolted up from his chair. _Orochimaru knew. _Did Orochimaru know everything? Had this all been some huge, elaborate joke? If so, to what purpose?

All Sasuke knew was, he wasn't going to stick around to find out. Ignoring the teacher entirely, he bolted for the door. His hand closed on the doorknob, but it wouldn't turn. It was locked.

"Now, now," Orochimaru said. He smiled at Sasuke, and it wasn't the bland gentility he usually showed. This was a serpent, and Sasuke got the feeling he was snake-food. "You can't leave so soon. I've waited a long time to find you, and I'm not nearly finished yet."


	20. Missing Element

It was a rather nice ceiling, Gaara decided with a sort of dazed detachment. It had exactly thirty-six square ceiling tiles. He knew, because he'd counted them at least thirty-six times. It was possibly the most interesting thing in the room.

The ceiling was white, of course. Everything in the room was white. Gaara had never been surrounded by so much _nothing _before. Sometimes he felt as though the room was a very tiny universe all its own, floating in space, disconnected from everything. A tiny speck of light, born from nothing, doomed to return to nothing. Then again, that might just be one of the side effects of the medication.

Gaara had been in that room for two days. It was the second room he'd been brought to after the incident at the school. The first room had been at the police station, and was almost as tiny and featureless as the room he now inhabited. Though unlike this one, the room at the police station had been mostly gray, with cinderblock walls, a battered metal table, and gray plastic chairs that might have actually been white, once.

There had been a lot of waiting involved with being interrogated by the police. They'd taken him to the room and had him sit there a while. He'd sat, and they'd left. A while later, someone came by and offered him a soda and a sandwich. He'd taken them, but he hadn't been hungry. Eventually the officer that had taken him from the school came by. He introduced himself as Officer Zabuza, and read Gaara his rights. Gaara had only partially listened when Zabuza informed him that he had the right to remain silent, the right to legal council, the right to trial by jury, and a number of other rights that were probably very important (Gaara didn't know for sure; he'd stopped listening at that point). When asked if he understood those rights, Gaara nodded, and then Zabuza left and Gaara waited some more.

Gaara learned later, through snatches of overheard conversations, what had been going on while they kept him waiting. Since Gaara was a minor, they'd had to contact his legal guardian before asking him any questions. That took quite a while, Gaara imagined. Even he didn't know how to contact his father. But maybe Temari did. At any rate, permission was finally obtained. When the police learned Gaara had regular sessions with a psychiatrist, they'd had to contact Dr. Iira too. Gaara could only imagine the pleasure she'd taken in informing the police of the deteriorating state of his sanity.

But Gaara didn't care about her or her pompous theories. In fact, it had been hard to muster much interest in anything. He'd been numb, cold right down to his core. He'd been allowed to wash his hands before they'd brought him to interrogation, and they'd had him change into a sweatshirt and sweatpants that were both a little too big for him, but they were clean. He didn't know where they'd taken his school uniform. Almost all physical trace of the day's events was removed from him. But as he sat in the tiny interrogation room, Gaara stared at his hands. There was still blood under his fingernails. Neji's blood.

"Shukaku?" Gaara had finally spoken to the demon. He realized he was speaking out loud to the voice in his head, but it didn't matter by this point. The police already knew he was crazy. "Shukaku, please. What do I do now?"

It wouldn't have mattered what Shukaku said. No matter how vicious or violent, Gaara was willing. He needed something. _Anything_. He was frozen inside; he felt nothing. He could kill if that was what was needed to warm his heart.

But the demon was silent. Gaara was utterly alone.

After what felt like hours, the waiting ended when Officer Zabuza returned. He'd brought Gaara another can of soda, and set it next to the first one that Gaara hadn't opened. Gaara couldn't figure out if these were supposed to be peace offerings, or if the police were simply required to provide him with food or drink. Either way, he didn't want it.

Zabuza sat in the chair on the other side of the table, watching him with a look Gaara knew well. He got that look a lot from his previous therapists, when he wouldn't talk to them, especially just after he'd done something violent at the behest of Shukaku. It was a look that suggested Gaara had just performed some sort of magic trick, and his audience was still trying to figure out how he'd done it. As though he were a particularly perplexing riddle to solve. Gaara had always felt that this look was a sort of poor attempt at making him crack, to make him reveal the secret to his sleight of hand. Gaara stared right back at Officer Zabuza, daring the man to impress him where so many psychiatrists had failed.

Finally, Officer Zabuza sat back in his chair. "So," he said, "do you want to tell me about what happened in the classroom now?"

Gaara wasn't impressed. "No." His gaze drifted away from the policeman, watching the droplets of condensation trickle down the sides of the soda can. "Is Neji going to be okay?"

"You asked that before," Zabuza mused. "Don't you care what happens to the other one? Your teacher?"

Gaara frowned. Mention of Tashimura sent a fissure of fury through his numbness. "Is he still alive?"

"He is," Zabuza affirmed. "Tashimura is in a coma. For now. They're not sure he's going to make it."

Gaara traced a finger down the slick side of the soda can. He licked the moisture off his fingertip, tasting the hint of blood from under his nail. "I hope he dies," he said. "Tashimura doesn't deserve to live."

"Did you attack him?"

"I watched," Gaara said. "The sand attacked him."

"The sand." It was spoken as a statement, but Gaara got the feeling it was a question.

"My sand," Gaara confirmed. "I wanted it to hurt him, and so it did."

Officer Zabuza stared at Gaara, attempting to carefully judge whether or not the suspect was lying. Since Gaara wasn't lying, he just stared back, and waited.

"Do you… _really_ believe that?" Zabuza finally said.

"Yes."

"Hm." He brought out a notepad and wrote something on it. "You'll have to sign a statement of your version of events. You're sure that's what you want it to say? That your, ah, _sand_ attacked Tashimura?"

"That's what happened."

"Okay." There was a definite tone of _I-give-up_ to the policeman's tone now. He scribbled something else on the notebook, then tossed it and the pen onto the table. "Read it, sign it."

Gaara read it. The first line written on the page read, "Boy's _nuts._" That probably wasn't meant to be part of his statement. Following that was a single sentence, outlining exactly what Gaara had said, what little there had been of it. The sand attacked Tashimura. This was to be his official statement, Gaara figured. Anyone investigating this case from this moment on would know both that Gaara believed these were factual events, and also the interrogating officer's personal evaluation of Gaara's lack of sanity. This one hastily scrawled note could change the course of his very future.

Gaara picked up the pen and signed his name at the bottom.

Officer Zabuza took the notepad back, frowned at the signature, and stood up.

"Am I going to jail now?" Gaara asked.

"That'll be up to a jury once the case has been fully investigated and presented at trial," Zabuza said. "In the meantime, both your psychiatrist and your family have decided it would be in your best interest to be relocated to a… safe environment."

That was when Gaara was taken from the police station and brought to Alecander's Memorial Asylum for Boys. It was quite a different experience, Gaara noted, to walk through the front doors and know he wasn't going to get to leave once his hour-long session with the psychiatrist was over. It was late by this point; it was dark out, and the building seemed quiet and eerily empty, save for the dozen or so people waiting in the lobby for Gaara's arrival.

There were nurses, all very prim in extraordinarily bland outfits, wearing practically identical expressions of concern and pity. Dr. Iira was there, holding her ever-present clipboard. She started taking notes on it the minute Gaara walked through the door. He didn't think she could tell all _that_ much about his mental state simply from his posture. Temari and Kankuro were there, waiting to one side. That surprised him. His father wasn't there. That _didn't_ surprise him.

Everyone talked very softly and coaxingly to Gaara as they maneuvered him through the halls. Dr. Iira did most of the talking, explaining in a soothing tone the new regimen of medications and therapy Gaara would be experiencing during his stay, how everything would be alright now, how he was safe here. As Gaara was led to his new quarters, he decided he probably would have rather gone to prison. He wondered if anyone would let him call Officer Zabuza and tell him that.

The room they brought him to was white and smelled strongly of antiseptic. Large white vinyl-covered padding protected the entire wall surface. There was a window looking out into the gloom of the night, with a heavy metal grate covering it. There was a small bed, and the pristine sheets practically glowed with whiteness. In fact, under the harsh florescent lighting, _everything_ in the room seemed to glow, to pulse its white purity. Gaara hated it immediately.

"I can't stay here," Gaara said. He'd only taken one step into the room; now he tried to back out of it.

There were too many people still in the halls, and they insistently blocked his escape. A few of the nurses took hold of his arms, leading him back into the room. He didn't struggle until they brought him back across the threshold. The whiteness was electrifying, burning. It was so clean, it mocked him.

"It'll be alright, Gaara," Dr. Iira spoke to him. "You'll be safe here. You have to let us help you."

He didn't want to stay here, and these people couldn't help him. They'd _never_ been able to help him. If they could, none of this would have happened in the first place. This was wrong. He should never have let them bring him here. Gaara had to get out of this place. He had to go find _Neji_.

He broke the nurses' grip on him, twisting out of their hold and darting through the crowd for the exit. He made it out of the room into the hall, but even as he pushed through the glut of people, he felt himself gripped and grabbed and dragged back. Gaara kicked and lashed out, struggling for his freedom with everything he had. He would claw and he would bite. He would kill with his bare hands if he needed to. He knew if they put him in that room, he would never leave again. He would never see Neji again.

Something stung his side. He twisted his head to look, seeing the little syringe one of the nurses had stuck him with. Seeing it finally brought out a full flare of anger, and he fought against his captors with a renewed zeal. It lasted only moments though, as whatever he'd been injected with spread through his veins. He felt his limbs become heavy and unresponsive, and it was suddenly so hard to keep standing. When he collapsed, he felt many hands holding him up, lifting him, carrying him back into the room.

_Where was his sand now?_ Gaara wondered as he was laid on the bed. The bed frame came equipped with restraining straps, which the nurses professionally buckled around Gaara's wrists and ankles. These were unnecessary; Gaara couldn't move.

_Where was Shukaku?_ Gaara wondered as the murmur of voices around him ceased to form actual words, blending together into a meaningless drone. Had the demon left him at last? Then there was no need to keep him here; he wasn't crazy, he wasn't dangerous…

And _where_, Gaara wondered as he slipped into unconsciousness, _where was Neji?_

_.x.x.x._

The two days after arriving at the asylum were spent in a medicated haze that Gaara rarely surfaced completely from. Every time he felt his thoughts clearing, another nurse would come by to administer more tranquilizer, and Gaara would slip back into a dulled-mind waking dream.

He dreamed of Neji, and he dreamed of blood. He dreamed of Shukaku, the demon wandering a lonely and barren desert, trudging endlessly onward and crying for a mate it could never find. He dreamed a million little memories of this life and the last, one flowing into the next like droplets of water into the ocean. Though he tried to hold these memories close, they slipped through his fingers and back into the void before he woke.

His brother and sister came to visit him on the afternoon of the second day of his imprisonment at the asylum. Gaara stopped his thirty-seventh counting of the ceiling tiles to watch them enter his tiny cell. Both of them looked around awkwardly, their gazes fixed on anything but him. Temari was holding a bouquet of flowers, and they were intensely, vividly red. Temari glanced about, as though looking for a table on which to set the flowers, but there was none. The only furniture in the room was the bed Gaara was bound to, and a single plastic chair. Kankuro had to ask the nurse that had escorted them for another chair so he could sit.

"Hi, Gaara," Temari said softly. She sat down on the chair, offering a weak smile. "How are you doing?"

Gaara decided that was a stupid question not worth answering, and so returned to his counting. He'd left off on the twenty-eighth ceiling tile. Or was it twenty-seventh? Damn, he would have to start over again.

Kankuro brought over the second chair, setting it beside Temari's and taking a seat. "We went to see Neji."

Gaara's gaze snapped to him, forgetting all about the stupid ceiling. "How… how's he doing? Is he better yet?" His voice was hoarse and quiet, barely more than a whisper. He felt as though he'd forgotten how to properly speak.

"It's only been a few days, Gaara," Temari said. "You can't really expect-" She cut off when Kankuro shot her a look, and tentatively she started over. "Recovering from a wound like that isn't going to be easy, Gaara. But the doctor we spoke to said the first day is the most crucial, and Neji has already made it through that. So there's a pretty good chance, we think…"

"I want to see him," Gaara said.

"You can't," said Kankuro. "You can't leave here until Dr. Iira says you can. She said your condition was still too unstable. So just… try to relax, okay? Look at it this way; at least you get out of going to school…"

Gaara's dark glare made it clear he didn't find the joke funny. Kankuro made a little sheepish cough and looked away. Temari took the opportunity to change the subject.

"We spoke to Dr. Iira on the way in, Gaara," Temari said. "She says you've been very withdrawn, and have absolutely refused to talk about what happened at the school."

Gaara recalled that the "good doctor" had been by numerous times since he'd been brought to the asylum. She'd asked him a lot of questions; as usual, he hadn't said anything. She was just going to come to the wrong conclusions about him anyway, so there was no point in telling her what had happened. Far easier just to ignore her, until she gave up and allowed the nurse to administer his next dosage of meds. Then he could slip back into his dreams, and it was like nothing of the last few days had ever happened.

"Will you talk to us about it?" Temari asked.

He looked at her. Temari looked sincere, and worried, her hands clenched around the stems of the flowers, causing the bouquet to look a little bedraggled.

"There's nothing more to say about it," Gaara said.

Both his siblings seemed to slump a little in defeat, as though they'd honestly expected him to give a full accounting of the events of that day, one that would once and for all lay all their confusion to rest. But he had no intention of doing so. They hadn't believed him before when he'd told them the truth about himself and his past life. Why should he expect them to believe him now?

"Did you really hurt that teacher, Gaara?" Kankuro said. "And that other boy… I thought he was your friend."

"I didn't hurt Neji," Gaara said sharply. "I didn't. I would never."

"You told the police that you did."

"I didn't say that. They only asked me if I hurt Tashimura," Gaara said. "They never asked if I hurt Neji."

"If you didn't stab Neji, then who did? The teacher?" Temari asked. She leaned forward a little, speaking with urgency in her tone. "Gaara, you _have_ to tell us what happened, from the very beginning. Everything."

"No."

"Please?" Temari begged. "If you attacked them unprovoked, you'll end up in jail, or stuck in here forever. But… if you were protecting your friend, or if it was self defense-"

"What does it matter?" Gaara asked. "If he deserved it or not, I'm not getting out of here. Not now. Everyone thinks I'm crazy. _You_ think I'm crazy."

He closed his eyes, and waited for them to deny it. They didn't.

Gaara sighed as the silence lingered. "Leave me alone. I don't want to talk to you."

"Gaara-" Temari protested.

"_Go away."_

"Okay," she murmured sadly. "Alright, we're going. We'll come back tomorrow, though. And every day after."

Gaara looked at her, demanding bluntly, "Why?"

"Crazy or not," Kankuro said, "you're still our little brother."

Gaara just stared at them, watching as they picked up their coats. Temari did her best to straighten out the bouquet, and left the flowers on the chair before heading for the door.

"Temari?"

Gaara voice made her pause in the threshold, looking back at him expectantly.

"Thanks for not bringing white flowers," Gaara said.

She glanced around the utter whiteness of the room, before offering him a sympathetic smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Then they left, and Gaara was alone. He stared at the flowers left on the chair, their redness vivid against the white. He never would have expected such a gift, not after everything he'd done. In the course of his lifetime, he'd tried to kill both of them, not once but numerous times. How could they still care about him?

"_Crazy or not," Kankuro said, "you're still our little brother."_

There was only one explanation for this strange behavior, Gaara decided. Clearly, familial bonds were _not_ compatible with self-preservation instincts.

_.x.x.x._

After his brother and sister left, Gaara expected the day to resume its unrelenting monotony, and for a few hours, it did. With nothing better to do, Gaara dozed, mostly fitfully. The longer he lay there, the less comfortable he found the mattress of his bed, and he longed for someone to unbuckle the safety restraints so he could stretch. He considered causing a commotion, just to get a nurse to come by with a sedative to render him unconscious.

Just as he was prepping himself for an all-out screaming fit, there was a knock on the door. That surprised Gaara; none of the nurses ever bothered knocking before letting themselves in.

"Gaara?" a familiar, gentle voice inquired. "It's Dr. Haku. May I speak with you?"

"Um." Certainly not used to anyone here asking his permission, Gaara was at a loss. "Yeah."

The door opened and Dr. Haku let himself in. He smiled at the bright flowers occupying one of the white plastic chairs; he sat in the other chair so as not to disturb them. "Your brother and sister asked me to come by," Dr. Haku admitted. "They were hoping you might talk with me."

"I'm not supposed to talk to _you_," Gaara said. "You're not my psychiatrist."

"That's true, I'm not. I won't be able to make notes in your file, or change your medication schedule, or testify in a professional capacity at your trial," Dr. Haku agreed in that serene, straightforward way of his. "However, should you choose to confide in me, I can listen very patiently, without condemning you as 'crazy.'"

Gaara frowned skeptically at Dr. Haku. He still wasn't sure how much the doctor had believed him the _last_ time Gaara had confided in him. And what would there be to gain, even if he did explain what had really happened? Even Dr. Haku admitted, he would not be much help to Gaara in his current predicament. Still… Gaara found a small part of himself _wanted_ to talk about it, to someone, anyone, that would really believe him. He was so tired of everyone giving him that look, like they couldn't wait to get away so they could gossip to their friends about the crazy, murderous redhead and his delusions of sand and demons.

When Gaara didn't say anything, Dr. Haku spoke up. "How's Shukaku?"

"I don't know," Gaara said. "He won't talk to me. He hasn't said anything since…" He trailed off.

"Since what happened at your school?" Dr. Haku guessed. "Why do you think that is?"

"Because Neji got hurt," Gaara murmured. "Shukaku was furious, and he was… scared, too, I think. Maybe he doesn't want me to know how scared he really is." He wondered if Shukaku was listening to him now, and he waited for the demon to make some sort of snide, insulting comment about how he wasn't _scared._ But Shukaku was silent.

"You didn't hurt Neji, did you." It was phrased as a statement, rather than a question, and Gaara appreciated Dr. Haku more for that.

"He was trying to protect me," Gaara murmured. "The sand couldn't make a shield; it was out of chakra. He knew that, I told him that morning… I shouldn't have told him that. If he thought the sand would make a shield, maybe he wouldn't have pushed me out of the way."

"I imagine it wouldn't have made a difference," Dr. Haku said. "Some things are pure instinct. Protecting someone we care about is an instinct; we will do so without thinking." He frowned a little suddenly, as though something had just occurred to him.

Gaara noted the change in expression. "What is it?"

Dr. Haku shook his head, the serene smile returning, as though the frown had never been. "Nothing. I was just reminded of a dream I once had."

"What sort of dream?"

"Now, now," Dr. Haku chided lightly. "We're supposed to be talking about you."

"Dreams interest me," Gaara said. "I want to hear it."

Dr. Haku looked thoughtful. "If I tell you about it, will you tell me what really happened the other day at your school?"

Gaara nodded.

"Alright," the doctor said. "In my dream, there was a wall of frozen mirrors, sort of a dome really. There were two boys trapped within this dome, and they were fighting an unseen enemy. Now that I think on it, one of them resembled Naruto quite a bit. The other boy had dark hair, and red eyes."

_Sasuke_, Gaara thought.

"The enemy was faster than the two boys, however," Dr. Haku continued, "and just as it seemed the Naruto-look-alike was going to be killed, his friend pushed him out of the way and took the hit, instead. And then…"

"And then?" Gaara prompted.

Dr. Haku shrugged. "Then I woke up. It was a very strange dream."

Had Dr. Haku known Naruto and Sasuke before, in a different life? Had he been there with them, fighting that unseen enemy? "What do you think the dream means?" Gaara asked.

"I always assumed it meant I shouldn't eat ice cream before bed," Dr. Haku said. "Now, then. You said you would tell me what went on-"

There was a sort of commotion outside in that hallway; heavy footsteps with a purposeful stride approaching the door, and a flurry of hurried footsteps shortly behind.

"Sir!" a nurse's voice called out. "I'm very sorry, you can't go in there-"

"I need to talk to the boy," came the reply, a deep voice Gaara recognized as Officer Zabuza.

"I understand that, but you really need a warrant or something-"

"That's the police officer that took me away from the school," Gaara murmured. "He thinks I'm crazy."

"Would you like me to send him away?" Dr. Haku asked.

Gaara gave a half-shrug. "It doesn't matter. I already told him what happened."

The policeman was still outside the door, arguing with the nurse. Dr. Haku stood up and went to the door, opening it with such a suddenness it startled both the nurse and Officer Zabuza into silence.

"Excuse me, I really must insist you keep your voice… down…" Dr. Haku trailed off a little at the end. From Gaara's vantage point, it seemed to him that Dr. Haku was as stunned by Officer Zabuza as the policeman was of him.

The silence stretched a moment, before Dr. Haku covered it up. "Ah, forgive me. Is there something I can help you with, Officer?"

"Er." Zabuza cleared his throat. "I had a few more questions for the suspect."

"Suspect?" Dr. Haku asked, a slight edge to his voice.

"The boy; Gaara," Zabuza clarified. "Can I come in?"

"Visiting hours are over," the nurse behind Officer Zabuza said. "Unless you have a warrant-"

"You can come in," Dr. Haku interrupted the nurse, "as long as you don't upset my patient. When Gaara says he wants you to leave, you'll have to go." He sounded a little regretful about the last part.

The police officer nodded agreement, and stepped into the room. Dr. Haku moved over to the bed, and much to Gaara's relief, unfastened the safety straps. Gaara sat up and stretched until he was certain he heard every joint in his body pop.

Officer Zabuza shifted his weight from one foot to the other, seeming a little out of place. Dr. Haku demurely reseated himself in the chair he had vacated earlier. Zabuza looked to the other chair, and finding it already occupied, picked up the bouquet of red flowers that Temari had brought so he could use the seat. He looked for a table just as Temari had, and when he found none, held the flowers out to Dr. Haku.

Dr. Haku smiled as he accepted the flowers. "Why thank you, Officer."

Gaara looked from the doctor to the policeman and back again. It was hard to tell with Dr. Haku, since he always seemed to have that gentle, serene expression, but Gaara thought perhaps the doctor looked a little more wistful around Officer Zabuza. And Officer Zabuza was clearly a little stunned by the feminine doctor, and covering for it badly. While it might be interesting to watch the two completely forget Gaara was even in the room, Gaara wasn't really in the mood to be generous, and he had no desire to play matchmaker.

"You said you had questions for me," Gaara said.

"Huh?" Startled out of whatever he'd been thinking by Gaara's reminder, Officer Zabuza seemed momentarily confused. Then his eyes narrowed on him. "Right. I want you to tell me how you did it."

Gaara stared at him. "Did what?"

"I examined that classroom from top to bottom. There are large dents in the wall, and the paint in many places has been scoured clean off. Some of the furniture has pieces missing, and it doesn't look as though it's been broken off; more like it's been _chewed_ off. There's sand all over the floor. There's blood on the _ceiling_, like Tashimura's body was smashed against it. This isn't the sort of damage a scrawny high school student could cause, especially given the short time frame he had to accomplish it!" Zabuza stated matter-of-factly, with a touch of exasperation. "So I want you to tell me _how you did it._"

"Easy," Gaara said. "I didn't."

Officer Zabuza blinked at him. "What?"

"I told you before. _I_ didn't do any of those things," Gaara said. "If you were to reread the statement that I signed, you would remember I told you the _sand_ did all of that."

"Your stupid little joke is getting old," Zabuza growled. "I think it's about time you just 'fess up and tell me what really happened in that room, and maybe I can get you some kind of deal."

"It isn't a joke," Gaara said. "And I don't want your deal. If you don't want to believe it, suit yourself. But that's what happened."

"How could sand do all of that?" Zabuza demanded. "It can't move on it's own."

"Yes, it can," Gaara said. Then he frowned. "At least, it used to." He wished now he'd been able to bring some of the sand with him. It might be out of chakra again, after its violent attack of Tashimura, but it was possible he'd be able to get it to work again. If he had the sand maybe he could get out of here.

Officer Zabuza was not convinced. "That isn't possible."

"Sometimes," Dr. Haku said quietly, "some things aren't quite as impossible as first believed."

"Are you trying to tell me that _sand_ attacked a teacher?" Officer Zabuza demanded.

"I'm not saying anything of the sort," Dr. Haku assured him serenely.

"I thought not," the police officer said, a touch smug.

"What does the _evidence_ say happened?" the doctor continued blithely. "Even if Gaara were, shall we say, insane, and giving a skewed version of the events, the forensics would be unable to lie. So if all your evidence says that sand attacked a teacher…"

"…then that's what happened," Zabuza finished. He shook his head. "I don't believe it. There has to be a better explanation than that."

"Then by all means, look for one," Dr. Haku said. "That is your job, after all. But, you know, when you've eliminated that plausible as a possibility, it will leave you only with the implausible. You may have to be content with that."

Officer Zabuza stared at him, and then inexplicably, started laughing. "Whose side are you _on_, anyway?"

Dr. Haku blinked, and laughed as well. "I am not on a _side._ I was merely making conversation."

"Well, I can't put 'sand' in jail," Zabuza said, standing up. "So maybe I'll do what you said, and search out my more "plausible" explanation."

"I wish you luck in finding it," Dr. Haku said. "Officer…?"

"Zabuza," the policeman introduced himself. "And you are?"

"Haku," the doctor returned. "It was very nice to meet you, Officer Zabuza."

"See you around, Doctor." Officer Zabuza made a joking little bow to Dr. Haku, and let himself out.

"Well," Gaara murmured as the door shut behind the police officer. "That was dumb."

"You think so?" Dr. Haku mused. He held out the bouquet to Gaara. "I believe these are yours."

Gaara took the flowers, touching one blood red petal. "Do you really believe that the sand attacked Tashimura?"

"Hm," Dr. Haku murmured. "I'll tell you what I believe, Gaara. Sand is nothing more than a granular mass comprised of tiny grains of rock. It could no more attack someone by itself than a knife could stab a person of its own will. It is the human element, the one that _wields _the knife that turns what would otherwise be just an object into a weapon. I imagine it would be the same for sand."

That was the same thing Shukaku had said. The sand was only a tool, an instrument to act on Gaara's will. And Gaara knew that. A part of him felt better to think that the sand had done it on his own, leaving Gaara as only an innocent bystander. But he couldn't keep pretending that was the case. He'd wanted to hurt Tashimura, and he'd used the sand to do it. If Tashimura died, it would be Gaara's fault. Even if no one was able to prove it.

"Gaara?" Dr. Haku prompted gently. "You promised to tell me what happened that day, at the school. You said Neji was protecting you. Why did you need to be protected?"

Gaara looked away, to the window. Through the metal grate covering it, Gaara could see it was a miserably gray, rainy day. "Tashimura tried to kill me. He had a knife…"

"Why did Tashimura want to kill you?" Dr. Haku asked. "Did you do something to him?"

"Not in this life." Gaara's gaze focused on the rain spattering on the glass. "I think maybe in the last one, though. I remembered something about it, and he mentioned having memories of his own. He was… obsessed with Neji, in this life, and the last one too. He thought I was stealing Neji from him."

"He saw you as a rival," Dr. Haku supposed.

Gaara shook his head. "He saw me as a monster. And he was right, wasn't he? I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster, Gaara," Dr. Haku assured him quickly.

"He's only alive now because he lost consciousness," Gaara said. "If he'd kept moving, I would have kept hurting him. When I was finished breaking all his bones, I would have crushed him into a paste and smeared his remains up one wall and down the other. He'd have been dead long before I was done with him, and that'd have disappointed me. I wanted him to feel every moment. It was punishment for what he'd done, but it was more than that; it fascinated me. To watch him struggle, hear him scream. I think… I liked it." He looked away from the window, eyes fixed on the doctor. "I feel no guilt for what I did. Can you still say I'm not a monster?"

"Yes, I can," Dr. Haku said. "Though I won't, since it seems you're not ready to believe me. But I will tell you, when someone hurts a person you care about, it is a natural reaction to want to hurt them back. I'm not saying it's right to do so, but what you felt was a very _human _instinct."

"And the others?" Gaara asked. "Tashimura is not the first person I've hurt. There have been others, many others, and none of them did anything to me. I belong here. I should have been locked up here a long time ago."

Dr. Haku smiled, just a little. "It seems to me, you feel a lot more guilt than you claim to."

"You're wrong," said Gaara.

"Mm, perhaps," Dr. Haku said. He stood up. "I also think you ought to rest now, and I'm not wrong about that. Do you think you'll need something to help you sleep?"

"No more drugs," Gaara stated quickly. "I'm sick of all these medications they keep giving me."

"Alright," said the doctor, "I'll see what I can do. I hope to talk to you again tomorrow. Until then, have a nice night, and sleep well."

Gaara just nodded, looking back to the dismal view out the window, effectively a dismissal. He heard the door open and Dr. Haku take his leave, and still he didn't bother looking. He watched the rain for a long time.

Gaara thought about a lot of things while he watched the rain. He thought a lot about Neji, wondering if he would ever see him again. Or if Neji would even want to see him again. Gaara had always assumed that as soon as he hurt someone again, it would be over between himself and Neji, no matter what kind of history they had in a past life. In that life, Gaara may have been a reformed killer, and Neji may have accepted that, but that life was not this life. They weren't ninja anymore. Gaara had hurt Tashimura; the teacher might even die from the injuries he'd sustained. And no matter what Dr. Haku said, Gaara wasn't sorry he'd done it. The only thing that gave him regrets was the thought Neji might reject him for it, even though Gaara had done it for him.

For once, Gaara wished Shukaku would speak up, with its stubborn insistence that no matter what, Neji was theirs.

"Neji is ours," Gaara whispered out loud, just to try it. It didn't have the conviction, the reassurance that he'd hoped for. It wasn't any use; Gaara just couldn't be sure Neji would want him anymore, not after what he'd done. And maybe Gaara didn't deserve him, anyway. After all, Gaara was a monster, and monsters didn't deserve second chances.

He curled up on the mattress, and pulled the thin white sheet over himself as ineffectual defense against the chill in the room. Gaara was sure that since he'd spent so much time in a medication-induced coma, there was little chance of him getting any sleep that night. Just for the fun of proving him wrong, sleep found him shortly. And while Gaara slept, he dreamed.

_.x.x.x._

The baby held in Gaara's arms scrunched up its face, letting out a high, pitiable cry. Gaara looked at the thing helplessly, entirely out of his depth when the infant continued to make upset noises. The tiny thing was so fragile; he really hadn't meant to break it.

"You have to support his head," Neji offered gently, with some amusement.

Gaara relaxed, glad that the baby's crying didn't necessarily mean it was injured. At Neji's direction, Gaara carefully corrected his hold on the child, so that its head was supported in the crook of his arm. After a few last whimpers, the baby seemed to relax. Its scrunched up face un-scrunched, and it opened its eyes to look up at Gaara.

The baby's eyes- gleaming pearl with sizzles of iridescence- clearly marked it as progeny of the Hyuuga clan. Though he was only a few months old, already the baby had a tuft of silky soft black hair crowning his head. When it wasn't crying, Gaara decided, it wasn't actually rather… cute. The child seemed to study him just as intently as he studied it, and then it smiled up at him.

Babies were strange and wondrous creatures, Gaara decided. He'd had almost no experience with them up to this point, and for good reason. Gaara was a killer, still dangerous even after he'd given up his homicidal habits. Those who knew what he was like before becoming Kazekage still tended to keep their young offspring away from him. He hadn't given it much thought before now; babies were simply something that existed in other people's lives, and they had nothing to do with him.

Holding one now for the first time in his life, or at least the first time he could remember, he was struck by how delicate it was. The baby's skin was so soft and warm, having never yet been exposed to the elements that would scar and callus it. Its arms and legs lacked coordination, and it grasped its tiny hands at anything that came near, though its grip was hardly strong. But what amazed Gaara the most was, despite how small and fragile the child was, it could lay there in Gaara's arms and look up with him with such trust and amazement. It wasn't afraid of him. It didn't know it ought to be.

Which meant he probably ought to hand the child back to its mother before he accidentally did something to correct that ignorance. As though anticipating that very thing, Hinata was at his side in a moment, and Gaara handed her son over with some relief.

"He behaved himself, I hope," Hinata murmured as she cradled her son with natural ease.

"Perfectly," Neji assured his cousin. Hinata smiled at him, a beautiful smile, but her gaze was inexorably drawn back to the child in her arms.

Hinata had changed a lot from the other times Gaara had encountered her. Once a painfully shy, anxious girl, Hinata was now a picture of serenity. Though this party was as much for her as it was to show off her baby, Hinata's mingling with the guests would usually be curtailed, as she was drawn back toward one or the other of the two most important males in her life; either her child, or her boisterous husband.

Gaara's gaze scanned through the crowds that currently occupied the clan hall of the Suna branch of the Hyuuga family. As soon as Hinata had felt hale enough to travel through the climes of the desert, she and her husband had brought their baby to Suna to show him off to Neji and Gaara, and of course the outlying family as well. The Hyuugas living in Suna had, in typical Hyuuga fashion, thrown a gala event in honor of the occasion. Neji had informed Gaara that despite the clan's reputation for being very prim and stodgy, they rarely missed an opportunity for a celebration. It was part of the Hyuuga's inherent need to show their prestige off to one another, and anyone else in the vicinity, Neji had said. If the Hyuuga clan hall could have fit all of Suna's villagers inside it, they probably would have all been invited.

Gaara finally spotted Hinata's husband at the far end of the room. Lee was exuberantly regaling an audience with tales of what a fine shinobi his son would be when he was older. His audience, in turn, was amusedly egging him on, and Lee's boasts got more wild and excited by the minute.

Neji had apparently also caught sight of his former teammate. "Lee seems to have taken well to fatherhood, I would say."

Hinata looked up from her tender regard of her child, smiling as she looked over toward her husband. "The first thing he bought for his son was a pair of baby sized leg weights," she informed them. "Never too early to start training, Lee said. I've had to hide them."

"I imagine Gai's first present for his favorite student's son was a green spandex jumpsuit," Neji said.

"I've hidden that too," Hinata said, serenely. The baby started fussing a little; she rocked him gently until he calmed. "I have let him keep the blunt plastic kunai, though I imagine they'll be used more for teething than training." After a moment or so, it seemed her son was no longer content to be cuddled into placidity, and began to whimper in earnest. This was followed shortly by an unpleasant, dirty diaper type odor.

"If you'll excuse us," Hinata murmured at once. "Seems we have some things that need taking care of." She offered both Neji and Gaara a smile, with only the barest ghost of her former shyness, and carried her son away for a diaper change.

Gaara watched her go, then his gaze slid uneasily over the rest of the people crowding around the room. Everyone here had been friendly to him, though whether it was because he was Kazekage or just because they were scared of him, he didn't know. He suspected, at least in the case of Suna's ninja, it was more the former than the latter. The fear was still there- it may always be there- but over the years that he'd been leader of this village, the men and women under his command had come to respect him, and more than that, trust him. Still, he was sure there were only three people in the room that were genuinely happy he was there; Lee, Hinata, and of course, Neji.

"This will go on for a while yet," Neji murmured to Gaara, accurately reading Gaara's discomfort. "We don't have to stay, if you don't want."

Gaara nodded, relieved and as always a little pleased at Neji's almost unfailing ability to read his moods. "I could use some fresh air."

"I'll go make our excuses to Hinata and Lee," Neji agreed immediately. "It might take a moment- you know how Lee gets. I'll meet you outside."

Neji moved through the crowds, pausing only to exchange a few words with the other members of his family that he passed. Gaara watched him only for a moment, before heading in the opposite direction for the exit. His own family was in that crowd somewhere- Kankuro and Temari had been happy to come along to meet the baby and congratulate the parents- but Gaara didn't feel the need to seek them out to say any goodbyes for the night. They knew what he was like, and they wouldn't expect any. So long as he had Neji with him, they wouldn't worry about him.

Gaara collected his gourd from where he'd left it at the entrance. He would have been allowed to bring it inside; no one would have dared refuse him, though it would have made them uncomfortable to have it there. Gaara had chosen to leave it behind for the sake of his hosts, knowing no one would dare steal it, and even at a distance he would be able to call the sand to him in a moment had he needed it. Still, as the familiar weight of the gourd settled on his back, he felt better. The sand hummed and cooed at his return, echoing aloud his relief.

It was cool and calm as Gaara stepped out into the evening air, walking out toward the street to get a look at the sky. It was still light; the sun had barely passed below the horizon. The wind was faint at the moment; in a few hours it would pick up and howl across the desert, and everyone would close themselves up in their homes for the night.

Gaara thought back to the happy couple at the center of the party, and the new, tiny addition to their family. As Neji had said, Lee had at the least seemed very enthusiastic about his new status as a parent. But then, Lee did everything in his life with that same enthusiasm. Gaara had never understood where he got all that energy. He thought that Lee would probably make a good father.

Not that Gaara knew much about fathers, his own having never really taken on a parental role in his life. For a long time, it had been hard for Gaara to accept that not all fathers were like that. He knew Neji's father had been a good person, at least from the stories Neji had told him in a sad, wistful tone. Neji still missed his father, and always would. When Gaara's father had died, Gaara had felt no grief, only the slightest regret that he had not been the one to kill him.

The sounds of laughter filtered out from the party inside. Despite all the faults of the Hyuuga clan, and Neji admitted his clan had more than its share, it was a family that would cherish the child that had recently joined its ranks. Neji looked back on his childhood with a mixture of frustration and regret, but Gaara had no doubt that Neji was loved by his family. And if, as his family had planned, Neji had married his cousin Hanabi and fathered a brood of white-eyed geniuses, they too would be loved.

Neji would have been a wonderful father.

He door behind him opened, and Gaara could tell it was Neji that emerged without even having to turn and look. The sand whispered delightedly as Neji walked over to stand beside Gaara, brushing up against him with a casual closeness. Neji looked up at the sky as well, as though to search out what had caught Gaara's attentions up there. But now Gaara's attentions were firmly fixed on the man at his side.

"Do you regret marrying me?" Gaara asked with no preamble.

Neji blinked, turning to look at him with an incredulous stare. "Whatever makes you think that I would?"

"You could have had a life like that," Gaara said. "If you had a wife, you could have children. I can't give you a family…" Once he'd gotten used to being in a relationship, Gaara had slowly come to believe that he would be able to supply Neji with anything he wanted. But if Neji wanted to be a father… a child was one thing Gaara couldn't provide.

"That's true; biology does rather work against us in that area, doesn't it?" Neji mused. He smiled at Gaara, and Gaara felt the budding of relief. "I don't need a life like that. I have what I need, here with you, and I would not give it up for anything. I have not, and will not, ever regret this. I love you. And honestly, I thought we cured you of these kinds of insecurities long ago."

Gaara smiled faintly and slipped his hand into Neji's, rewarded when Neji's hand squeezed his in return. "It seems we'll have to try again."

Neji nodded, his expressions seemingly solemn, though Gaara could sense the amusement- and the promise- that it hid. "Then it's best we get started right away," Neji pronounced. He started down the street toward home, without a single glance back at the Hyuuga clan hall he was leaving behind, and Gaara walked along beside him. Just as it was meant to be.

Neji was entirely capable, Gaara reminded himself, of knowing what he wanted and taking it. And it was still amazing to Gaara that Neji wanted _him_.

Besides, if Neji ever changed his mind about children, they could always adopt.

But that was a thought for another time. For right now, it was just the two of them, together in love, and on their way to prove it in the privacy of their own home. Gaara didn't know how he had earned a life like this (he did _remember_ everything he'd done prior to his reform), but he knew with certainty now that Neji wasn't going to abandon him, come what may. In this life, or in any other.

_.x.x.x._

Gaara woke to the now painfully familiar ceiling tiles, mocking him with his return from the dream-memory into reality. He sat up slowly, shaking off the lethargy that threatened to pull him back down into welcoming embrace of his past life. While it would be easier- and more pleasant- to return to that dreaming place where he was loved, he knew losing himself in those memories would be far too easy. And wouldn't it serve everyone right, if he did trap himself in his own mind, escaping their mental institution by developing the very insanity they accused him of?

He knew how that life ended, though, and reliving the plague and his own suicide was not an appealing prospect. Even if he would get to see Neji again…

But Gaara could not bring himself to abandon the Neji he'd come to know in this life. This was the life Gaara was living now, and the past was nothing but memories, not a world he could return to. If… _when_ Neji recovered, he wouldn't necessarily reject Gaara. The Neji of Gaara's past had forgiven so much, had loved Gaara despite everything. It was true, this was a different life, and they were different people. But maybe things hadn't changed quite as much as Gaara thought.

There was really only one way he could be sure. He would have to see Neji again.

He looked around the white prison of his padded room. To see Neji was easier decided than done. Gaara would have to get out of this place first, then find the hospital Neji was at, and get in there. It seemed like an impossible endeavor without help.

Something small moved in the corner of the room. Gaara's gaze snapped to it, trying to make out the source of the noise. A mouse, maybe? He didn't think it likely, but maybe even in a medical institution, such vermin found their way in.

It wasn't a mouse that emerged from the corner, however. Gaara's eyes widened as he recognized the small, granular mass. It was sand, almost a fistful worth, flowing awkwardly along the white linoleum. It wasn't the sand he'd kept in his backpack; it must be the accumulated collection of sand that visitors must have tracked into this room, perhaps over a period of years. Thank goodness for careless cleaning practices, which led to all that sand being swept into a corner and forgotten. Now it was Gaara's. And it was going to help him escape.

As the sand picked up speed and swept itself up onto the bed beside Gaara, Gaara turned his attention to the door. It was locked, of course, but it didn't have the standard key-type lock that the sand had been able to pick before. Instead, there was a slot for a key card. Gaara didn't know if the sand's lock-picking trick would work on this more technological mechanism.

As though galvanized by the challenge, the sand darted across the room, wedging itself into the doorjamb. Soft noises issued forth from the lock, little grindings and clicking, and then the handle turned and the door opened the tiniest crack. The sand emerged from its work inside the door, shaking away filings of metal and shreds of copper wire, whatever remained of the once computerized lock. It seemed to be waiting.

"Good work," Gaara whispered, and the sand hummed in a pleased way.

Gaara got up slowly from the bed, wincing at the way it creaked. He peeked out the door at the hallway; it was empty. It was after hours now, and all of the patients would be locked up in their rooms for the night. But there were always night-checks, so he would have to make his escape before anyone came by to check in on him.

He stepped out into the hallway, pausing in its florescent brightness and tried to figure out which way was the exit. He hadn't really been paying attention when they brought him here. And so many people had surrounded him at the time, he hadn't really gotten a good enough look at his surroundings to recognize landmarks.

Gaara waited a second, knowing that this would be the point Shukaku usually couldn't resist making some sort of snarky comment about Gaara's lack of intelligence. But the demon said nothing.

"_You're losing your touch, Shukaku,"_ Gaara thought at the demon, not knowing if it could even hear him.

But without the voice in his head to offer direction or even insults, Gaara was left on his own. Well, not entirely on his own. The sand made an eager little purr, and darted after him as he picked a direction he thought was the right one, and set out on his way.

It turned out his choice was the correct one, as he spotted a large sign on the wall, with an arrow directing the way to the lobby. Gaara picked up speed, almost running as he cleared the halls and reached his destination.

The lobby was dark, since the asylum was officially closed down for the night. The secretary that usually presided over the large check-in desk was absent. There weren't any security guards, but a little too late, Gaara noticed there were cameras. He wasn't in their range yet; the two he could see were pointed at the door. He'd never be able to get to the door without being caught on tape. It might not matter if someone did see him, if he could manage to get out the door before anybody caught him.

The door was locked, of course; Gaara knew that before even trying. At his signal, the sand skittered across the lobby, too small to be anything more than a tiny blur to the security cameras. It dipped into the lock, twisting and testing it. But there was no tell-tale _click_; the lock was too strong. It was more than Gaara's tiny bit of sand would be able to handle. He wouldn't be able to get out this way. Frustrated, there was nothing to do but turn around and go back the way he'd come.

Getting to the lobby hadn't been too hard. Finding his way back to his room, however, proved next to impossible. There weren't any helpful signs labeled "Gaara's Room" with an arrow to point the way. And he'd neglected to check his room number before he'd left.

And why should he have had to? Gaara wondered. He hadn't been planning on going _back_, after all. Even if he did, someone would know he'd broken out in the first place; it wasn't like the sand would be able to fix the lock it had shredded. He would just have to find another way out of here.

He ended up wandering one identical hall after the other. They were all the same, long and white with bright lighting, and black numbers stenciled on the rows of doors and a little nameplate next to each, naming the room's occupant. Every now and again, Gaara heard footsteps in the distance, and he would duck down yet another hallway in order to avoid them. Soon he was good and lost. Probably going in circles, for all he knew.

Someone was approaching down one of the other halls, and so Gaara took an abrupt left, skirting one wall until he was sure they weren't coming in his direction. He let out a breath. He couldn't do this all night, running around the halls like a rat in a maze until morning when the main doors opened. Someone would find him before then. Every place he could think of to hide in- the cafeteria, the art room, the music room- would similarly be locked up until morning. He might be able to get the sand to pick the locks, though…

As he stood there trying to decide his next course of action, one of the nameplates on a door caught his eye. He moved closer to it to make sure it really said what he thought. It did; "Naruto Uzumaki" was printed in bold lettering.

That's right, Naruto lived in this place. Naruto had been absent from school for days before the incident. It was possible he hadn't even heard about what Gaara had done yet. He might not even know Gaara was here at the asylum now.

If Shukaku were speaking to him, he probably would have told Gaara to ignore the room and go about the business of escaping. No, that wasn't true; Shukaku would have told Gaara to kill Naruto, and _then_ go about the business of escaping. But Shukaku wasn't speaking to Gaara right now, so Gaara tried the handle of the door. To his surprise, it turned easily; the door wasn't locked.

Well, why should it be? Naruto wasn't considered dangerously crazy, and was given pretty much free reign of the asylum as far as Gaara could tell. Opening the door slowly, Gaara stepped from the brightness of the hallway into the dimly lit room.

It was a lot different than Gaara's little padded cell. The walls were still padded, of course, but there was a bureau pushed against one wall, clothing spilling haphazardly out of its half opened drawers. Posters were safety-pinned to some of the padding, and there was a tiny table next to the bed with a stereo and an alarm clock crowding its over-burdened surface.

Naruto was tucked into bed; only his spiky blond hair peeked out from the bundle of bed sheets cocooning him. Gaara paused awkwardly, not sure what he was doing here. He didn't really want to wake Naruto, but Naruto was his… friend, of a sort. And it was possible Naruto would know some other way out of the asylum aside from the front doors.

The sand floated over to the bed, giving the bundle a quick poke. Naruto mumbled something unintelligible, but didn't move. The sand gave him another jab, harder this time. Naruto shifted a little, but didn't make any attempts at disentangling himself to see who his intruder was.

"Naruto!" Gaara hissed, taking a step over a pile of clothes strewn on the floor. "Wake up, it's me. Are you listening? Naruto!"

"Go away," a voice grumbled from under the bed covers.

"Naruto," Gaara said, "I… need your help."

"Too bad," was the reply. "Naruto's not here."

The voice sounded like Naruto's, but… not, somehow. "What do you mean?" Gaara asked. Something was wrong here.

The bed sheets were pushed back, and the bed's occupant sat up, giving Gaara a good look at him. It looked like Naruto, but it wasn't. There were strange lines, like whiskers, marking each cheek. His face looked strange, slightly elongated, like an animal's, and Gaara caught a glimpse of more sharp teeth than any human rightfully ought to have. But the most striking feature was the eyes, bright red, seeming to glow with a power all their own. The eyes of a demon.

"Naruto's out at the moment," Kyuubi said, his voice harsh and raspy. "Can I take a message?"


	21. Physics

"Kyuubi?" It was hard to believe, but hard to deny when the truth was staring at Gaara with red demon's eyes. "What happened to Naruto?"

"He broke," Kyuubi said simply. "What happened to your head?"

Gaara blinked, lagging behind the demon's leap of conversation. "My head? There's nothing wrong with my head."

"So you just wear Band-Aids on your forehead for the fun of it now, do you?" Kyuubi shrugged. "I'll never understand mortal fashion trends."

"Oh. That." Gaara had quite forgotten about the kanji cut into his forehead. After everything that had been going on, it seemed to have dropped several notches on his priority scale. "It's not fashion. It was a memory." He picked at the edge of the bandage, peeling it away slowly to reveal the mark.

"Ah," Kyuubi said. "You had that mark before, in your other life, yes? That's an even weirder trend than the bandage. I remember it now."

"When _I_ remembered it, the sand reenacted it," Gaara said. "It was like living the moment over again, with the same result."

Kyuubi leaned forward toward Gaara suddenly, inhaling deeply. "Is that when your seal cracked?"

Gaara moved back, affronted by the invasion into his space, and the tiny handful of sand beat ineffectually at the demon. "My what cracked?"

"Your seal. The barrier that keeps Shukaku trapped inside. It's cracked. I can smell him much better." Kyuubi took a few more sniffs, a look of consternation on his vulpine face. "Or maybe that's just because I'm on the outside, now. Everything smells differently on the outside. Much stronger. But I'm pretty sure…"

"I… I don't know anything about a seal," Gaara admitted. "And Shukaku hasn't spoken to me for days." He felt vaguely disquieted by the way the blond demon kept sniffing at him. He hoped he didn't smell edible.

"Mm. Not surprising, if the seal is breaking. He probably can't talk to you now, or won't. It's better that he doesn't," the Kyuubi murmured off-handedly. "You have better chances of surviving that way."

"What do you mean?" Gaara asked warily. "Is this seal thing dangerous? Is that what you meant when you said Naruto 'broke'?" Demon or not, Gaara was going to hurt Kyuubi if it kept giving him vague answers. This was starting to sound serious. Maybe even fatal.

Kyuubi let out a long sigh, and sat back. "Naruto had a memory, too. I tried to hide it from him, but he found out about it and made me show him. I knew it would be bad, because Sasuke's sharingan always shows bad things. But if I'd know it would be _this_ bad, I would never have let him talk me into giving the memory back." Kyuubi glowered, flopping back onto the bed and addressing the ceiling. "And let me just say, I don't think it's fair for the same event to kill me _twice._ You mortals are so disgustingly fragile. No wonder Shukaku is so cranky all the time."

"Naruto's seal cracked?" Gaara guessed.

"Naruto's seal cracked," Kyuubi agreed. "And his consciousness went… well, _unconscious_, while all his chakra focuses on fixing it. The crack wasn't as bad as it could have been, and with all that energy bent solely to repairing it, it should have been fixed long before now. Except, so long as my chakra keeps leaking through like this, the seal won't mend. So either Naruto will use up all his chakra in a futile effort, thus killing himself, or the pressure of my chakra leaking through will break the seal open completely. At which point, Naruto dies, and I linger painfully trying to hold the corpse together until it explodes. And as much fun as I had with that the first time, I'm not looking forward to a repeat performance."

"What was the memory?" Gaara asked.

"You. And Neji," Kyuubi said softly, almost dreamily musing. "We found you… your bodies… you'd been murdered. Naruto couldn't take it. There was so much pain, and fury, and everything just seemed to break, all at once. In that life, the seal had been weakening, little by little over the years, and it couldn't withstand that pressure. But this seal was stronger, because Naruto was born with it this time, instead of having it imposed by an outside source. It shouldn't have cracked like it did. I think it was like with your sand, and your scar. A reenactment." He let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Did Sasuke's eyes show you your death, too? Is that why your seal cracked?"

"I remembered my death, but I don't think it had any affect on the seal," Gaara said.

"Do you remember who murdered you?" Kyuubi asked.

"It wasn't murder," said Gaara. "It was suicide. Sort of."

"Suicide…?" Kyuubi stared at him, then bared his sharp teeth in an irritated snarl. "Suicide?! He thought you'd been murdered, and I went through hell because of it! Next time you decide to off yourself, leave a damned note, why don't you? It would save me a lot of trouble. Not to mention, the gruesome and torturous _death._"

"I'm sorry," Gaara said quickly. The sand was flurrying around him, as if its tiny presence would be capable of warding off an enraged fox demon. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't," Kyuubi muttered. His anger seemed to deflate as quickly as it had come. "You were dead. Your village was falling to madness and despair, and you were losing everything you cared about. I guess I can't blame you for the whole suicide bit. Was Neji…?"

"He had the plague," Gaara murmured. "It wasn't in the final stage yet, but it was close. We decided it would be easier…"

"Plague?" the demon frowned. "Oh, right, he didn't get a chance to tell you. There was no plague. No, trust me on this, I know what I'm talking about," he said when Gaara was ready to protest. "It was poison. In Suna's water supply. It mimicked disease, and among its many effects, it made the inflicted thirsty, so they would drink more of the poisoned water. Naruto was coming to tell you… he just got there a little too late."

"Poison? Then Neji didn't have to die?"

"Well, there wasn't an antidote," Kyuubi muttered. "I don't think they ever found one. Can't be sure though, since I was sort of busy exploding from the inside shortly after that point. It probably wouldn't have helped, even if you had known. Shikamaru knew, and he still died."

"Shikamaru…" Gaara knew the name and the face from one of his recovered memories. "I think I knew him. He and Naruto were close?"

Kyuubi almost choked on a laugh. "Yeeahh, you could say that."

"So they never found out who poisoned Suna?" Gaara asked.

"Don't know," answered the demon with a shrug. "Like I said; exploding from the inside. Wasn't exactly keeping up with current events." Kyuubi looked thoughtfully at Gaara. "Speaking of being behind the times- what are you doing here, anyway?"

It sure had taken the demon long enough to wonder about Gaara's unprecedented visit. Maybe Kyuubi and Naruto were more alike than Gaara would have guessed… "I don't have time to give you the full story," Gaara muttered. "Neji was stabbed, I hurt a teacher, everyone thinks I'm crazy and they locked me up here."

"Wow. You know, I'd assumed Naruto was just overzealous about you because he was excited to finally have a human friend at school, but maybe he was on to something," Kyuubi commented. "Maybe you _do_ need a babysitter."

"I don't need anything but an escape route," Gaara muttered crossly. "I need to get out of here. I need to go find Neji."

"Ah," said the demon. "Well, good luck with that." He pulled the blanket back over his head and hunkered up on the bed.

The sand tugged on the bedcovers. "I need your help," Gaara said sharply.

"Then you're out of luck," Kyuubi's muffled voice informed him from under the blanket. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Why not?" Gaara demanded.

"Here're three reasons for you; red eyes, sharp teeth, and whiskers," Kyuubi said. "If I'm not careful, the tails will probably poke out too, and then I'll really be in trouble. I can't go out like this!"

That would explain why Naruto hadn't been at school. "How do you keep anyone around here from seeing you?"

"It's amazing how many people will stay away from you if you tell them you're going to puke," muttered the demon. "When I absolutely have to, I can hide all my physical abnormalities. For a little while, at least, but it uses my chakra, and I can't afford to put any more pressure on the seal than absolutely necessary."

"If my seal has cracked like Naruto's has, why is it you're leaking and Shukaku isn't?" Gaara asked.

"I'm bigger than he is," Kyuubi said, and Gaara could hear a hint of smugness in its voice.

Gaara thought about that, then shook his head. "I don't understand. You and Shukaku don't have bodies of your own. How are you bigger than him?"

"It's… well, it's hard to explain. You have to remember that the seals and our chakra aren't really physical things. It's energy. It doesn't really have a form, but it does have a size. Chakra, like mine and Shukaku's, can be compressed down almost infinitely small, and that's how demons of our size can be contained within your tiny mortal bodies.

"Compressed, our chakra takes up the same amount of space, but mine is denser than his. When the seal cracks, the chakra starts expanding back to its proper size. Like if you popped a vacuum-sealed plastic bag. But since I have more chakra than Shukaku, it expands at a faster rate, and puts more pressure against the seal. He would take longer to reach critical mass, and by then, the seal may be mended."

"And there's no way to… compress your chakra back down so Naruto can fix his seal?" Gaara asked.

Kyuubi peeked out of his blanket nest at Gaara, giving him a sardonic glare. "If I knew how to fix it, do you think I'd be sitting here, expecting to sprout fox ears and nine tails at any moment? This body can't handle that."

"But… if you weren't going all foxy here, you'd be able to help me get out?" This place was a maze; Gaara was sure he'd be lost in here forever if he didn't have a guide. Or worse, discovered by one of the nurses or the security guards, and thrown in a new padded cell, one with a stronger lock that the sand wouldn't be able to break. And assuming he did find a way out, he'd need to find the hospital Neji was at; that didn't seem very likely to happen while he was on his own, either.

"Suppose so," the demon mused. "Naruto and I have been all up and down this asylum. Most of the emergency exits have alarms on them, but there are a few other ways out you might be able to use without getting caught. Don't see how that'll help though, since I can't show you where any of them are… I'd like to help, I really would, but with things as they are, I just don't think it'd be wise for me to go traipsing around. Might end up like last time. Then again, maybe this is just how things are supposed to end."

Gaara was suddenly and bizarrely reminded of one of the dreams he'd had, before he'd started recovering his past memories. Naruto had been in that dream, clutching over a long gash that opened his belly, as though trying to keep his entrails from spilling out. What was it Naruto had said…?

"It wasn't supposed to end like this," Gaara whispered aloud, remembering.

Now that he thought on it, it hadn't been just the one time those words had been spoken. He'd heard it in other dreams. It had been the last thing Shukaku had said before the demon had fallen silent.

_It wasn't supposed to end like this._

So maybe it wasn't over yet.

Kyuubi gave him an odd look. "What?"

Gaara didn't bother explaining, asking instead, "You said in your past life, the seal was imposed on you by an outside source. Do you remember how?"

The demon sighed. "Nope. I've only gotten bits of memory back, and they're mostly from the burning-bleeding end part. Why do you ask?"

Gaara touched the scar on his forehead. "When the sand gave me this, we were trying out a technique Orochimaru-sensei devised, for recovering specific memories. If you could remember how the seal was put on to begin with, maybe we could put on a new one."

Kyuubi looked dubious.

"Orochimaru-sensei has books, too," Gaara forged on. "One of them might mention the seals, if they're that important. There's got to be something that can fix this."

"And if there isn't?" Kyuubi asked.

"What's the alternative?" Gaara asked sharply. "Stay here and wait to die? You didn't want a repeat performance, you said. If there's a way to fix the crack before the seal breaks completely, shouldn't we try to find it?"

Kyuubi smiled suddenly, and with all those pointy teeth, it looked a lot more vicious than the demon probably intended. "Careful," Kyuubi warned. "You've been spending too much time around Naruto. You're starting to sound like him."

Gaara winced at the implication. "Don't say that," he said. "Do we have a deal or don't we?"

"Let me make sure I've got it straight," the demon said. "I get you out. We find Neji. Then somehow we find your Orochimaru-sensei and pray he has some way to patch or replace the seal when we get there. Is that about right?"

"That sums it up, pretty much."

"I swear, if I get out of this one alive, I'm retiring. I'm not going to let Naruto do anything more strenuous than picking his nose. Alright, let's get this freak show on the road." Kyuubi pushed away the blankets and did a full body stretch that would be more appropriate for a cat than a human. Gaara noticed that Kyuubi's pajamas were light green with a myriad of cartoon foxes parading across them.

Gaara moved to the door, expecting to have to wait for Kyuubi to change clothes, or put on shoes at the very least. But the demon didn't seem interested in doing either, simply getting up to follow. Gaara didn't question it; if Kyuubi felt like running around town barefoot in his pajamas, that was the demon's own business.

He opened the door a crack, letting the florescent light from the hallway spill in. There wasn't anybody in evidence out there, and Gaara didn't hear anybody coming, so he opened the door wider and exited Naruto's room. Kyuubi followed, his bare feet padding silently across the linoleum. Gaara looked to him, awaiting direction.

"Left," Kyuubi said. "We're going to the basement."

Gaara didn't know the asylum even had a basement, but he'd just have to trust the demon. And hope that Naruto's demon was more trustworthy than his own.

Kyuubi led Gaara though a series of hallways, each of them almost identical. Gaara became attuned to the many sounds of the asylum, wary for any sounds that they might be found, or an alarm to be raised when it was discovered they were missing from their rooms. But Kyuubi seemed to known the nightly routes of the nurses and attendants well; every now and again, Kyuubi would call a halt, and Gaara would hear someone down the next hallway, checking on the patients. When they were gone, Kyuubi and Gaara would resume their trek.

After a while of this, Gaara started to get impatient. All the halls looked so similar, he was starting to think that Kyuubi was leading him around in circles. He was just about to say so, when Kyuubi stopped suddenly next to the wall.

"Here," Kyuubi said.

Gaara looked around. There wasn't a door here. "Where?"

The demon pointed to a panel about two feet up on the wall. It was about three feet square, had a handle at the top, and was padlocked. "That's our way to the basement. It's the laundry chute."

"We're supposed to go down the laundry chute?!" Gaara demanded.

"Shh!" Kyuubi hissed. "Yes, we are. There's a door down in the laundry room, leads to the side alley where the dumpsters are. That's our way out." He grinned at Gaara's look of disbelief. "It's safe, don't worry. Kiba's escaped this way two or three times, when the janitors forget to lock up the chute. I figured with your sand, the lock won't be much of a problem."

As though eager to help out, the sand that had trailed after Gaara leapt into action, making quick work of popping the lock open. Kyuubi pulled the chute door open, gesturing gallantly for Gaara to go first. "After you."

Gaara peered down into the darkness of the chute with trepidation. He hoped Kyuubi was right. If he ended up breaking his neck on the way down, he was going to haunt Kyuubi for the rest of its demonic life. With that heartening thought in mind, Gaara climbed in.

It was a steep drop, and he didn't even get a chance to scream before it was over. He landed with a jarring thud on what seemed to be a mountain of laundry. Some of it particularly dirty laundry, if the smell was anything to go by. Gaara scrambled off the pile to get away from the stink, and moments later, Kyuubi came sliding down the chute, landing right where Gaara had been.

"I have a question," Gaara said, as Kyuubi slid down the mountain with a laugh. "Why couldn't we have just used the door to get down to the basement?"

"Because this was more fun," Kyuubi said, grinning its vulpine grin. He pointed across the room, to where a set of steps led to a rather battered looking door. "There's our exit. Come on."

Gaara followed behind Kyuubi, quietly reflecting that maybe it would have been better if he _had_ just left Kyuubi to its exploding death.

This door, since it was in a section restricted from all the crazies, had no need for alarms or fancy locks. It had only a simple deadbolt; Kyuubi unlocked it, and the two of them stepped out to freedom.

The alley was rain slick, shining with the light from the streetlamps. It smelled like wet garbage. There was a raccoon chewing on something unidentifiable near one dumpster; when it saw the two of them, it grabbed its prize and ran off.

"Which hospital is Neji at?" Kyuubi asked.

Gaara stared out into the night. "I don't know."

The demon let out a huff. "Figures. You _do_ need a babysitter. Alright, come on. We'll check the municipal hospital first; that's our best bet. If he's not there, we'll just have to check the others until we find him."

Kyuubi took off at a fast clip, and probably would have broken into a run if Gaara had been able to keep up with him. As it was, Gaara had enough trouble keeping up with the demon's trot. Despite the dirty water from puddles staining the lower parts Kyuubi's pajama legs, and the rough concrete that was probably cutting at his bare feet, the demon seemed remarkably thrilled to be out here. He would dart up ahead, sniffing at various smells as he waited for Gaara to catch up, then taking off again. Gaara would bet that if Kyuubi's tails had been showing, they'd have been wagging.

"I haven't been outside like this since my last lifetime," Kyuubi murmured. He snatched a flower from someone's lawn as they passed by, taking a deep whiff of its fragrance, before eating the petals. "I know the very fact that I'm _on_ the outside is a bad thing. But until the body starts breaking down, it's really rather nice." He shot Gaara a grin that practically glowed in the dark. "I'm glad I came."

They avoided the busy streets for as long as they could, so that Kyuubi wouldn't have to use chakra to disguise his foxy features from the public. But the hospital, by its very nature, had to be in a prominent section of town, and so they finally had to leave the back streets and enter the downtown proper. Kyuubi passed a hand over its face, and the vulpine strangeness faded away, the whiskers disappearing and the teeth dulling down to their proper shape. The redness leeched out of Kyuubi's eyes, leaving them Naruto's blue. But Gaara noticed that there was still a tiny bit of red around the edges of the iris.

"We'll have to make this quick," Kyuubi said. "I can't hold this forever, and I'd hate to revert in public."

"You could wait for me here," Gaara said.

But the demon shook his head. "You'll just get into trouble if I'm not there. I'm going."

"What kind of trouble could I get into in a hospital?" Gaara wondered out loud. Kyuubi just grinned at him, and the two went on.

Amid the darkness of closed businesses in the city, the hospital was aglow with light. Large signs directed them toward the emergency room entrance, and a few ambulances darted past along the street, either to or from the hospital, their red and blue lights swirling wildly. Since the emergency wards were the only ones open at this time of night, Gaara and Kyuubi went that way. It was the most likely place for Neji to be anyway, what with the extent of his injury. Kyuubi took in a deep breath as they neared the building, following closely behind Gaara, practically pressed against his back, a tense shadow.

The lobby of the emergency room was filled with people and noise. The people were waiting around on uncomfortable looking plastic chairs, and most of them wore similar expressions of shock, worry, and misery. Gaara guessed that these people were not patients, but rather relatives and loved ones of patients, waiting and praying that whatever emergency had brought them here could be fixed by a doctor's skilled hands.

There was a large counter at the far end of the room, where three receptionists presided. Two of them were occupied with other people, but the third- a sweet faced blonde girl with a pert nose and green eyes- looked up from her clipboard and smiled as Gaara approached the desk.

"Do you have an emergency?" the receptionist asked, a pen poised over an admittance form.

"No," Gaara said. "I'm here to see someone. Neji Hyuuga."

"One moment." She pulled out a registry book, flipping its pages with artful speed. She finally paused at an entry, then shook her head as she looked up at Gaara. "I'm sorry, Neji Hyuuga has already been discharged. His older brother picked him up earlier today."

"…brother?" Neji didn't have a brother, as far as Gaara was aware.

She nodded, glancing down at her registry again. "Yes, a Mr. Orochimaru Hyuuga signed the discharge papers at approximately five this evening."

_Orochimaru-sensei?_ But he wasn't Neji's brother. Why would he have lied about that, and why would he have taken Neji?

"Need to leave soon," Kyuubi growled softly behind Gaara. The demon was tense, and seemed to be trembling, almost imperceptibly.

The receptionist glanced at Kyuubi, a concerned frown on her face. "Something the matter, sir? Do you need to see the doctor?"

"'m fine," Kyuubi said tightly. He looked to Gaara; Gaara noticed there was more red to Kyuubi's eyes now. "So? Neji here or not?"

"No. Orochimaru-sensei took him. I don't understand…"

Kyuubi shut his eyes tight, taking a deep breath, and when his eyes opened again, the red had receded just a little. "We need to go. Quickly."

Gaara didn't ask Kyuubi if he was feeling alright; it was clear he wasn't. And since Neji wasn't here, there was no reason to stay. It wouldn't have mattered if he had wanted to, though; Kyuubi was already making a line for the exit. Gaara followed, but… slower. He still couldn't believe Neji wasn't here. Neji had been here, and now he wasn't. Because Orochimaru had taken him. He must have had a good reason… but for the life of him, Gaara couldn't figure out what it could be.

"You," a voice said from behind him. A familiar voice. "Gaara. I need to talk to you."

Gaara turned, to find none other than Shiten-sensei frowning at him. He hadn't even given a thought to the gym teacher since Gaara had mangled Tashimura, but it stood to reason that Shiten would be pretty pissed about it. Tashimura might have been obsessed with Neji, but Shiten-sensei was devoted to Tashimura. It hadn't occurred to Gaara that Tashimura and Neji would have been brought to the same hospital.

"I don't have time for this," Gaara informed the teacher coldly. He turned to look for Kyuubi, but the demon was already gone. Presumably, it would find someplace to rest and recover. Or maybe it would curl up and die.

"Tashi's still in a coma," Shiten-sensei said, as though Gaara hadn't spoken. "His legs have been broken in six places, and if he ever recovers, he probably won't be able to walk, or regain full movement of his right arm. He's got three broken ribs; one of them almost punctured his lung. His skull was almost cracked open like an egg."

"What do you want me to say?" Gaara snapped. "That I'm _sorry?_"

"Are you?"

"I'm sorry I didn't kill him."

Shiten-sensei nodded. "I thought as much. Come on; there are some vending machines over here. I'll get you a candy bar." He walked away in the direction of the vending machines, and Gaara, a little mystified by his behavior, followed. Sure, Gaara hadn't been expecting Shiten-sensei to attack him right here in the lobby of the hospital, but still his attitude, in light of what Gaara had done, was bewildering.

The teacher was digging quarters out of his pocket when Gaara reached him. "What do you want?" Shiten-sensei asked, surveying the selection the vending machine offered.

"Why are you doing this?" Gaara asked him.

"Because I'm hungry, and thought you might be, too," Shiten-sensei said. He put some of the coins in the machine, making his choice. The vending machine made a whirr, and a chocolate bar fell from its place into the receiving tray at the bottom.

"That isn't what I meant." Gaara watched as Shiten-sensei put a few more quarters in, making another choice, then stooping to retrieve both candy bars. "I almost killed your boyfriend, and you want to give me chocolate?"

"Tashi's not my boyfriend. It's… complicated." Shiten-sensei handed Gaara one of the treats, and with nothing else to do, Gaara took it. Shiten-sensei unwrapped his own, taking a bite of the chocolate bar.

After chewing and swallowing, Shiten-sensei continued. "I've known Tashi since we were in high school. He's an idiot, but he's my idiot. I've done my best to protect him, but you just can't protect the moronic from themselves, in the end. And you have to agree, Tashi's obsession with your friend is definitely the dumbest thing he's ever done. Ever since it started, I just knew he'd end up in a hospital bed by the end. Though I admit, I always expected it to be one of Neji's angry relatives to be the one to put Tashi there, not a little runt like you."

"You're… not mad at me?"

"Of course I'm mad at you. But I can't blame you, so being mad doesn't help me any."

That didn't make any sense to Gaara, but he had the feeling that Shiten-sensei's logic on the subject would just make his head hurt. "Then what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Right, that." Shiten-sensei took another bite of his candy bar, chewing it thoughtfully. "I don't know how you did all this to Tashi, and frankly, I don't care, either. I'm not denying he deserved it. But you and he are even now. If Tashi recovers, you'll leave him alone. You got your vengeance for Neji; you don't get any more." There was a threat unspoken somewhere in that, and Gaara didn't like it.

"And how am I to know he'll leave me alone?" Gaara demanded.

"I'll make sure of it."

"Like you really did so well already," Gaara said. "Your not-boyfriend is insane, and he wants me dead. He tried to kill _me_; he only injured Neji by accident." Gaara grit his teeth, and shook his head. "I don't have time for this. If Tashimura ever comes out of that coma, keep him away from me if you want him to live. I have to go find Neji now."

"Neji?" Shiten-sensei questioned. "Isn't he at this hospital?"

"Not anymore," Gaara said. "At the front desk, they told me Orochimaru-sensei took him earlier today."

Shiten-sensei's eyes widened a little with surprise. "Did he now? Interesting."

"Why is that interesting?" Gaara asked, a little suspiciously.

"It's interesting because Orochimaru has become… something of a mentor to Tashi in recent months. Apparently the two of them have some sort of shared interest. Over the summer, Tashi was reading some book about ninjas and hidden villages, or something stupid like that, and he and Orochimaru started having discussions about it. I encouraged it, because I thought it might take his mind off Neji. His obsession with your friend just seemed to get worse, though," Shiten-sensei said. "I would never have considered Orochimaru to have some sort of connection to this whole mess, but it all seems a little too convenient to be coincidence."

Gaara frowned, remembering something Sasuke had said. He'd said that a few months before his older brother had committed suicide, Itachi had been spending a lot of time having discussions with Orochimaru-sensei. That by the end, it was practically an obsession. Had Itachi and Tashimura been a part of some early experiment Orochimaru was conducting? Had Gaara, Neji and the rest of the Ninja Club unwittingly been added to the list of test subjects?

"I need to talk to Orochimaru," Gaara said. "Now. Tonight. Do you know where he lives?"

"I drove Tashi over to his house once," Shiten-sensei said. "I wouldn't advise going over there to confront him, though. I don't know what all this is about, and it could just be that I'm imagining enemies where there are none."

"He took Neji. I need to talk to him," Gaara said. "Give me his address or I'll find him myself."

"Just can't protect the moronic from themselves," Shiten-sensei muttered, digging through his pockets until he found an old receipt. He went over to the receptionist counter to borrow a pen, scribbling the address on the blank side of the receipt, walking back to Gaara with it.

"You can have this, if you agree to a truce," Shiten-sensei said. "Tashi leaves you alone, and you leave him alone."

"So long as he leaves me _and Neji_ alone," Gaara agreed. "But I stand by what I said before. I don't ever want to see Tashimura again." He held out his hand for the piece of paper, and with a sigh, Shiten-sensei gave it over.

"I still think it's a bad idea to go over there," Shiten said. "But… you're clearly not going to listen to me," he said to Gaara's back, as Gaara turned away from him and walked to the exit without a glance back.

After the warmth and the noise of the emergency room, it was almost painfully cold and quiet outside. The chilly air seemed to burn Gaara's lungs with every breath he took. He glanced down at the address Shiten-sensei had given him, and started in what he hoped was the right direction.

As soon as he was away from the bright lights of the hospital, Gaara got the distinct feeling there was someone following him. He paused on the sidewalk, looking around; from the darkness of an alleyway, a pair of red eyes was watching him.

"I wondered where you went," Gaara said to Kyuubi, as the demon slunk from its hiding place.

The demon was back to being foxy-faced and red-eyed, having abandoned his disguise. And Gaara couldn't be sure in this dim lighting from the streetlamps, but Kyuubi seemed paler, maybe a little sickly.

"Didn't mean to run off and leave you like that," Kyuubi apologized. "I can feel this body dying, inch by inch. We have got to find your Orochimaru-sensei and get him to fix this seal. I don't know how much longer the seal can hold back the bulk of my chakra. Is that chocolate?"

Gaara had forgotten he was still holding the candy that Shiten-sensei had given him. He gave it over to the demon, who bit into it and ripped off a chunk without bothering to unwrap it first. No wonder Naruto's body was dying under Kyuubi's care, if the demon always ate like that.

"I don't know if Orochimaru will be able to fix the seal," Gaara said, resuming his walk. "Or if he'd even want to."

"What are you talking about?" Kyuubi growled, though Gaara thought he detected a hint of panic in the demon's voice. "Why wouldn't he help if he could?"

"I don't know," Gaara said. "I'm just… not sure we can trust him."

"Great. _Now_ you decide he can't be trusted," Kyuubi muttered. "I should have just stayed home and waited to explode."

"Go back to the asylum if you want."

Kyuubi didn't reply to that, but he didn't leave either, stubbornly dogging Gaara's steps all the way. The demon's breathing was labored, though the walking wasn't overly strenuous. Gaara reminded himself firmly that he didn't have time to worry about the demon, and it was Kyuubi's own decision to stay with him now despite its precarious condition. And there was a tiny, selfish little part of Gaara that was glad the demon hadn't abandoned him, that he wouldn't have to face this mystery and Orochimaru alone. He just hoped Kyuubi wasn't going to die a second time because of him.

They reached the right street, which turned out to be not too far from the school. It was a quiet little neighborhood, and the houses and lawns were tidy and commonplace. Gaara wasn't sure exactly what he was expecting, but this picture-perfect suburbia was something of a letdown.

A few of the houses on the street had their lights on; the one matching the address Gaara had, however, did not. Gaara stood on the street for a few long minutes, staring at the unassuming building. Was Neji in there, somewhere? Did Orochimaru really have something to do with Itachi's suicide, and Tashimura's descent into obsession and madness? Or was this all bizarre coincidence?

Well, there was really only one way to find out.

Gaara walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. He could hear it chime somewhere inside the house. The silence stretched out from there, and just as Gaara was starting to despair of anyone being home, the front porch light came on.

But it wasn't Orochimaru that opened the door.

"Well look who's here," Soujishi said, smiling an unpleasant smile from the doorway. "Dead men walking. You're right on time."


	22. Laboratory

Gaara glared at the boy holding open the door. "What are you doing here?"

Soujishi just smiled at him, stepping back to allow Gaara and Kyuubi entrance to the house. "Extra-curricular activities. Wipe your feet."

Gaara wasn't so eager to go inside, especially now that he knew Soujishi was there. He (perhaps irrationally, perhaps not) placed some of the blame for Neji's injury on Soujishi and his friends. They had been there on the day everything had come apart, spying on the argument between Neji and Tashimura, laughing over it as though it had all been some great game to them. Gaara could still hear what Soujishi had said to him, with a sneer on his face and a secret in his voice.

"_Any idea where your boyfriend is now?" _

Soujishi had _known, _what Neji was to Gaara, and what Neji was to Tashimura. And as far as Gaara knew, Soujishi had even planned the whole encounter. Soujishi had been right there at the end, in the crowd amid the police and the gawkers, loudly and adamantly placing all the blame on Gaara, naming him insane. Gaara wondered, if Soujishi really had planned it all, if he'd really intended for Neji to be injured, and for Gaara to unleash hell on Tashimura. Had Soujishi scripted the whole thing?

Or had Orochimaru?"

"Are you coming in or aren't you?" Soujishi demanded. "We don't have all night. And neither does Neji."

That answered one question at least. Neji was here. Gaara stepped purposefully over the threshold, and Kyuubi followed his lead. Soujishi turned away from them, and walked further into the house.

The only light illuminating the interior was from the streetlights shining in through the windows, casting more shadow than light through the living room. From what Gaara could see in the dimness, it was a normal house. Normal, tidy furniture and décor; tasteful. Somehow, it felt wrong to Gaara, like a picture in a magazine. It didn't feel like anyone really _lived_ there. But he might just be imagining that.

"Saved us a lot of trouble, coming here on your own," Soujishi was saying, as they crossed through the living room and into the kitchen. It too was dark, darker here than it had been in the other room. Gaara could barely see Soujishi and Kyuubi. "It was easy enough to get Neji out of the hospital; we didn't think it'd be so easy to get you out of the asylum. Then you went and did all the hard work for us. Orochimaru-sensei will be thrilled. And bonus, you brought the fox, too."

"What is this place?" Kyuubi whispered. "It smells strange here. Like chakra and chemicals."

Gaara couldn't smell either of those things, but now that he was paying attention, he did note the faintest trace of something earthy sweet and cloying, like incense. "Where is Neji? Why was he brought here?"

"You know, I think I'll let Orochimaru-sensei answer that one," Soujishi said easily.

In the blind darkness of the kitchen, Gaara heard the turn of a key and a door opening, the door to the basement, he guessed. Beside him, Kyuubi let out a strange sound, a sort of choked gagging, and Gaara didn't blame him. The smell of incense increased dramatically, and he would guess whatever else Kyuubi had been smelling had, too. It seemed that while the main floor of the house maintained a façade of normality, the basement was hiding all the secrets.

"I see we have guests, Soujishi," Orochimaru spoke suddenly behind Gaara. Gaara hadn't even sensed someone approaching, and he scowled at his own carelessness. Until he knew what was going on around here, he couldn't afford to let his guard down. A shame all those ninja skills he'd once had didn't carry over from the last life to this one.

The light flipped on, flooding the room with abrupt brightness, making Gaara wince. Kyuubi made a sound suspiciously like a growl. The kitchen, now that Gaara could see it, was just as bland as he'd expected. All the furniture gleamed with polish, free of dust or any hint of personality. All the appliances matched. There weren't even any pictures or papers magneted to the fridge. It looked as though the whole room had been ordered right from the pages of a catalog.

"I'm really very glad to see you here, Gaara," Orochimaru said, crossing the room to stand beside Soujishi at the entrance to the basement. "I was really quite worried about the state of your health, both mental and physical, when I was told you'd been confined inside the asylum. I never believed that was the right place for you." Though his words were pleasant, something about them irked Gaara, like he was being mocked.

"And Naruto as well," Orochimaru continued. He looked over the demon thoughtfully. "Or should I say, Kyuubi? It is you, isn't it? The infamous demon, the bogeyman of Konoha, standing here in my kitchen. And sick as a dog, by the look of it. Quite the surprise."

Kyuubi was still growling, and had wrapped his arms around himself, as though trying to hold something in. His skin had gone practically translucent, and his veins stood out prominently vivid, like red ink on parchment. "Not much longer now," he growled, perhaps to them, perhaps to himself.

"No, it really won't be much longer now, will it?" Orochimaru said, as though Kyuubi had been speaking to him. "Soujishi, why don't you find a nice room for our guest? We'll fix him up proper in no time at all. Won't we?"

Soujishi grinned, holding out an inviting hand to Kyuubi. "Right this way, Mr. Fox Demon."

Kyuubi took a few shuffling steps forward, toward the basement door.

"Wait," Gaara protested.

Kyuubi paused, giving Gaara a look of such helpless suffering, Gaara felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. "This is what we came for, isn't it? So they could fix me?"

Gaara didn't know anymore. Something was very wrong here, but he couldn't put into words what it was. Neji was here, somewhere, and now they wanted to take Kyuubi too. And Gaara wasn't sure "fixing" the demon was really their intention.

But staring into that fiercely red, fragile demon gaze, Gaara nodded, just slightly. What choice did he have? There was no one else he could think of that could possibly help Kyuubi now. And Kyuubi seemed to have the right of it; there wasn't much time left for the demon, if they didn't do something soon.

Kyuubi continued forward, following Soujishi down the stairs into the basement. Gaara watched them go with trepidation. He knew that whatever happened down there would decide whether Kyuubi- and Naruto- would live or die.

"And now," Orochimaru said, when it was just him and Gaara left in the kitchen, "would you like the tour?"

"I want to know where Neji is," Gaara said, "and why he's here when he should be at the hospital."

Orochimaru nodded. "Don't worry; he's part of the tour. If you'll follow me, please."

And so it was Gaara's turn to descend the stairs into the basement. This was definitely where all the incense was coming from; the smell was almost stifling as they went down. There was only a bare lightbulb at the top of the stairs to light the way and give view of their surroundings. Not that there was much to see. The walls seemed to be cinderblock or concrete; hard, gray and imposing. The steps were wooden, creaking in protest with every step Gaara took. That single light caused Gaara's shadow to dance wildly out in front of him, until it blended into the darkness. There seemed to be quite a few more steps than Gaara would have guessed. How far down were they going to go?

At the bottom of the stairs, there was a door on the left, and a hallway leading off to the right. It was too dark to see what was down the hall, but there were strange noises coming from that direction; mechanical sounds, electronic, and the hum of air from some sort of ventilation system. It was very cold down there.

"What's down there?" Gaara asked. His voice was unexpectedly hushed. It didn't seem proper to speak too loudly down here. It had the feel of a hospital, or a sanctum.

"That's what comes next," Orochimaru said. He opened the door, and ushered Gaara inside.

Stepping from the darkness into this room, Gaara was momentarily blinded by bright light from half a dozen different computer screens. It wasn't a very big room, and it was made smaller by all the machinery crammed into it. The mechanized hum of the computers buzzed in the air, practically charging it with electricity. Some of the screens showed text, tiny print scrolling by too fast for Gaara to read it, and the few snippets he did catch didn't make any sense. A few of the screens seemed to be hooked up to security cameras, flipping repetitively through scenes of hallways or rooms. One wall of the room was taken up entirely by a large window, though the room it looked into was too dark to make out its contents.

"What is all this?" Gaara demanded.

"This is the control center," Orochimaru said. "Not much to look at, I know. I'd prefer a nicer locale for this whole operation, but I can't afford to be too conspicuous."

"What is all this _for?_" Gaara said.

"The experiments," Orochimaru said.

"_What_ experiments?!"

There was a small dial on the wall, and when Orochimaru turned it, the lights came on slowly in the room beyond the window. It took Gaara a moment to recognize what he was seeing. When he did, it took all the restraint Gaara had not to smash the glass.

Neji lay on a sort of spindly construction, vaguely resembling an examination table, though it had more than its fair share of gleaming metal piping and crisscrossed wiring. He was hooked up to a variety of beeping and humming machines, complete with a rainbow assortment of wires and tubes. Gaara recognized one or two as medical in nature, though the majority he could only guess at their purpose.

An I.V. drip hung by the bed, providing Neji with constant supply of some sort of fluid. One brightly lit monitor kept a metronome time as it charted out Neji's heartbeat. Steady, Gaara noted with some relief. An oxygen mask covered the lower half of Neji's face, and Neji's chest rose and fell as he breathed in the supply it presented.

"He's healing well," Orochimaru noted. "Much faster than he would have if left at the hospital. There are a variety of healing techniques that we have at our disposal, that the doctors of the world could only dream about. Neji won't die. Not until we're ready for him to."

"I won't let you hurt him," Gaara said, though he did not look away from the figure prone on the table. It was hard for him, seeing Neji like this. Orochimaru said he was healing, but surrounded by all those machines and mechanisms, how much good was it really doing Neji? Neji just looked so helpless there. Trapped.

"Save your threats," Orochimaru said with a smile. "I've been threatened so many times, over so many years. I must have heard every way there is to someone to endanger someone's life or well being, and ever torturously explicit way to make a body suffer. And clearly, I am still here and whole. So you see, there is no point."

There was a point, though Gaara didn't bother correcting Orochimaru's assumption. Gaara had punished the last person that had caused Neji harm. Gaara didn't care how invulnerable Orochimaru thought he was; if Neji was suffering in there, Gaara would make Orochimaru pay for it. It seemed all those years of listening to Shukaku expound on the details of torture and execution might have a use, after all. Gaara would bet the demon had one or two threats Orochimaru had never even _considered_.

It figured the Shukaku would be out of commission right when Gaara needed him.

"You said something about experiments," Gaara said. "Is that what you brought him here for? Is that what you're doing to him in there?" Gaara heard his voice rising, making demands from the questions, and he knew if he still had a backpack full of sand, it would be hissing.

"Part of this was done as a favor to you," Orochimaru said. "There was a very real possibility that Neji would not have survived his injuries, even with the best of doctors. By bringing him here, I've ensured his survival. Perhaps I was expecting too much in thinking you might be grateful."

Gaara wasn't ready to offer up gratitude just yet. "And the other part?"

"Pardon?"

"You said part of this was a favor. What was the other part?" Gaara said.

"Ah. I admit, there may have been more… selfish motives to that part," Orochimaru said. "The four of you- you, Naruto, Neji and Sasuke- are all necessary for the continuation of my research. It would put quite a delay on things were I to allow one of the test subjects to die so early in the experiment." He smiled at Gaara. "Don't give me that look. You and Neji both agreed to this. You said you wanted to keep trying to recover your past memories. I'm giving you that."

"I didn't want it like _this_." It had seemed so easy, harmless even, when all it involved was hypnotism and meditation, incense and soft music. But this- with tubes and wires and machines, strapped to a table and locked in a tiny room- was all wrong.

"Alas, the quest for knowledge is not always a pleasant one," Orochimaru said. "But I can promise you this; Neji is not suffering right now, unless it his own mind and his own memories providing the torment. The little trick I showed you both in the classroom was only a small part of a much bigger project, one I've been working on for a long time. Incense and meditation only get you so far, I'm afraid. But I've found that little things like that, combined with a series of hallucinogenic drugs and one or two diluted toxins, provide a mind trip that can last for as long as I choose. Right now, Neji is fully immersed in the memories of his past, with such a vivid clarity it is like living the event for the very first time. Were he to wake, he would be far more likely to think _this_ life is a dream."

"And what's the point?" Gaara asked. "What are you getting out of doing this to him?"

Orochimaru was silent a moment, staring through the window at the machines whirring and clicking through their computerized business. "A few centuries ago, when I was young, I wanted to live forever. My experimentation to that affect was met with harsh criticism, mostly because of how many of my test subjects ended up dead, but in the end, I managed to tease out the trick to it. Like most things in the world, gaining immortality is deceptively simple. All you have to do is… take someone else's life."

"You're… immortal?" Gaara asked, skeptically. He was willing to accept reincarnation as fact, but the possibility of a human being living forever? That was pushing Gaara's gullibility threshold.

"After a fashion," Orochimaru said. "It isn't a perfect immortality; more, I can keep myself alive until I decide to die. It's worked out well, and for the longest time, I thought I had everything I could ever want. But who would have guessed that eternal life could be so utterly _boring?_"

Orochimaru looked away from the scene in the window. "History is an endless cycle of events repeating themselves. The names and the clothes change, but in every generation, humans make the same mistakes as those that came before. What I did notice, however, amid this unbearable repetition, were a few familiar faces. People like your friend Sasuke, and his brother Itachi, and many others that I knew, reincarnating, living their lives, and dying only to do it again, with very little change to the routine. I had taken myself out of the loop of reincarnating, but watching that very cycle affect countless others, it made me start to wonder. Do you know what the legends say about reincarnation?"

Gaara hadn't exactly spent much time researching the subject, other than the little he had read in the book he'd gotten from the library. He was starting to wonder if maybe he should have. Though he didn't know how much it would have prepared him for dealing with his current situation. "No."

"It's said that a person's soul can reincarnate indefinitely, until at last they live a single perfect life. When they achieve that flawless life, at the time of their death they reach Nirvana. It is a place- or possibly just a spiritual state- of absolute serenity. There are no needs, no cares, no pain, merely an endless perfection," Orochimaru said. "Which means that this life- or any life, for that matter- is only a test. If you pass the test, you reach Nirvana, or Heaven, or whatever Higher Place really exists out there. Fail, and you have to retake the test."

"What does any of that have to do with us?" Gaara asked. He was starting to get fed up with all of this.

"Try cultivating some patience," Orochimaru advised. "Life isn't as short as you think. Well, it is, but you'll probably be repeating it several more times. My life, on the other hand, has been longer than you could imagine. Longer, I realize now, than I've had any right to. I'm done with it all. But my life has been far from perfect, and so I too would be doomed to reincarnate endlessly, losing everything I've learned in life upon death, having to make all the same mistakes, repeatedly failing to reach that state of Nirvana. It's not an appealing prospect. And so I've made a study of the nature of reincarnation. With your help, with the help of the whole Ninja Club, I'm going to beat the system.

"My first experiment involves the recovering of all your past memories. Each life contains a series of mistakes that prevents attaining Perfection. By isolating and learning from those mistakes, I can avoid them. I can map out a perfect life from beginning to end, a blueprint to follow. But it's the second experiment that is even more crucial. Once the blueprint is completed, I will allow myself to die, and begin again with a clean slate. But the problem with starting fresh is that I will have _forgotten_ all the carefully made plans I made in this life. This second experiment focuses upon the immediate recovery of those memories upon reincarnating. That one is trickier. Most often it needs something to trigger it, such as Sasuke's sharingan. Neji is the anomaly, however; it seems he'd recovered memories as a child, in the form of dreams. It will take quite a few tests to determine how that was accomplished."

"So, from the very beginning," Gaara said slowly, "all this time- giving me the book, sponsoring the Ninja Club- you were just using me to get everybody else to participate in your stupid experiments? So you can live one perfect life, you think it gives you the right to manipulate theirs?"

"Oh, but you're just as much a part of this as they are," Orochimaru said. "Admittedly, yes, you _were_ the bait, but you're as crucial to my experiments as the others. Your responses to my first test were immediate and vivid; far more than any other test subject has shown at the beginning. Your connection to your past is far stronger than anyone I've seen. Whether that is because of the demon you harbor within you, or something else, I have yet to determine. And so I would like to invite you to stay here, while I run a series of tests."

"And if I say no?"

Orochimaru shook his head in mock regret. "It would be a shame. The experiment would be all but useless without all four of you participating. If you were to decline, I think the most prudent thing for me to do would be to progress to the next stage with the other three, immediately." He smiled, a slow serpentine smile of a snake contemplating a particularly decadent morsel. "The problem with making reincarnation my field of study, I've found, is that I have to kill the test subjects in order to see if the experiment was a success."

The teacher moved to the bank of monitors and computer equipment. With only a few taps at the keyboard, some code Gaara didn't catch, and many of the screens began to flash red warnings, trilling urgent alerts. But more disturbing to Gaara was the scene through the window, where the many machines clustering around Neji similarly began to flash panic signals and sound alarms. Neji stirred restlessly on the table contraption that held him, gasping for the air that was no longer being provided for him. The heart monitor registered the increasing spike of Neji's heartbeat as it strived in vain to compensate.

Gaara's fist connected with the window before he even realized his own intent, though he accomplished nothing more than hurting his hand. He wished desperately for the sand, a tidal wave of sand that could tear all of this down and sweep Neji to safety.

Orochimaru's voice was calm and aggravating to Gaara's rage and panic. "One more code, and those machines will inject your friend Neji with a toxin so lethal, he will be dead in under a minute. Now… are you sure you don't wish to accept my proposal?"

Gaara grit his teeth. "I'll stay." What other choice did he have? In one day, he'd escaped one prison only to find himself in another.

Another code was typed into the computer, and the flashing lights and warnings ceased at once. Gaara watched in relief through the window as those machines resumed their normal paces, and Neji seemed to relax back into his medicated dreaming, undisturbed.

"We have a room already set up for you," Orochimaru said. "Quite comfortable, though you won't be seeing much of it. Soon enough, you'll be so deeply within your memories, this life will all but cease to exist for you."

"He'll be safe?" Gaara said, not looking away from the window. "You won't try that again when I'm not looking, will you?"

"I swear it, all of your friends will be kept in excellent condition, for as long as the experiment lasts," Orochimaru said.

And once the data was collected, Orochimaru would have no more need of their current incarnations. He would kill them all, in order to search them out in their next life, to do it all over again. And Gaara, with only the tiniest handful of sand and no demon to back him up, could find no way of stopping him.

"Show me my room, then," Gaara said.

"I knew you would see it my way," Orochimaru said.

He gestured for Gaara to precede him back out into the hallway. Casting one last regretful look at Neji, Gaara did so. He hoped whatever Neji was dreaming now, it was a good memory. Gaara wondered if Neji was dreaming of him.

The hallway as they walked through was so dark that Gaara had to trail a hand against the wall to keep from running into it. Orochimaru, as far as Gaara could tell, was unbothered by the dark. It seemed like an awfully long hallway to be in the basement of such a small, suburban home. Though it may just be the lack of visibility that made it seem so. He wondered where Kyuubi had been taken. Had they passed by his room already? Was the demon still alive?

"This one is yours," Orochimaru announced, opening a door in the gloom. Soft light spilled from the doorway into the hall, and Gaara had to squint against even that dimness.

The room Orochimaru led him into smelled overly laden with incense. It was barely larger than the room Gaara had seen Neji in, though this one seemed only slightly less packed with machinery. It boasted the same spindly metal table contraption front and center, flanked by complicated-looking electronics that beeped and whirred and looked generally impressive. Gaara was equally impressed and claustrophobic.

He wondered, as he lay down as directed on the surprisingly sturdy table, if any of Orochimaru's experiments were really providing the man with the information he was seeking, or if all of this was some sort of demented production born of an unstable mind. Gaara didn't know if a person really could learn to live as long as Orochimaru claimed he had, or if this Nirvana thing really existed, or if forcing Gaara and Neji and the others to relive their past lives would provide any sort of key to reaching that higher state of existence.

What he did know was that the Ninja Club was at the mercy of a madman, and somehow, Gaara had to save them.

Then Orochimaru stuck a needle in Gaara's arm, injecting him with something that took the world away, letting Gaara tumble through the darkness and wake up in another life entirely.

_.x.x.x._

It was the first day of spring. Many places equated this with the melting away of the winter cold and the budding of new life, brightening what had been a drab world with a brilliant array of colorful flowers and plant life. In Suna, the changes were not so dramatic, as there was no snow to melt away and little arable land for the growing of plant life. The sky was blue and the sun warm all year long. But even in the desert, spring brought a freshened look to the world.

It was still morning, and the sometimes fierce nighttime winds had already calmed into the day's gentler counterpart, a cool breeze that would take the edge off the heat later in the afternoon. It was going to be a beautiful day.

From Gaara's office window, he could see his village crowded with people, smiling and laughing, and festooning everything that didn't move with yards of colorful banners and ribbon that shone like jewels in the morning sunlight. Everyone had brought out their finest apparel, and there was a definite festival atmosphere in the air.

Gaara scowled down at it all. He'd locked himself in his office, because he was in no mood to join in with the festivities. He was in a foul mood, and the sight of so much joy in the face of his irritability wasn't helping matters in the least. It was his wedding day.

And he'd been banned from spending the day with Neji.

"It's bad luck for the groom to see his… er, groom before the ceremony," Temari had explained to him the day before.

Gaara thought that was a stupid superstition and said so. He saw Neji every day, to no ill affect. They'd been living in the same house and sharing the same bed for months now. He did not see how having a wedding would somehow change that. He'd expected Neji to agree with him, but Neji had shook his head and sided with Temari. It was, Neji had said, also the way of his family to keep a couple apart on the day they were to be married. And the Hyuugas were sticklers for their traditions. Outvoted, Gaara had given up, conceding defeat with as much dignity as he could muster as Kazekage.

It was only here in private, in an empty house, watching a festival he could not enjoy because Neji was not by his side, that he accepted that defeat as ungracefully as possible.

Neji had spent the night in the guest bedroom at Kankuro's house. Gaara had tried to keep himself busy with paperwork all night, in the way that he had before Neji had moved to Suna to be with him. But after reading the first paragraph of an official document four times without registering any of it, Gaara had given up. He'd ended up staring at his office ceiling for most of the night, wondering what Neji was doing, wondering if Neji was wondering about him too.

"_You,"_ Shukaku had stated with condescending authority, _"are so whipped." _

When morning had come and the village awoke, the celebrations began. It seemed as though everyone was having a good time preparing for Gaara's wedding but Gaara. Guests from Konoha had arrived a week earlier, most of them Hyuugas, and the newly built Hyuuga clan hall in Suna couldn't hold them all. Suna's hotels cheerfully raised their prices for the influx of people, and the visitors cheerfully paid them without hardly noticing. Neji's old teammates had also come for the wedding, as had Naruto and Shikamaru. It was going to be quite a party. The wedding was to take place that afternoon, but the celebration would probably last for days.

Gaara turned away from the window, having no desire to watch anymore. He looked at the clock; it was barely ten o'clock. Only five more hours apart from Neji. It felt like a lifetime.

"_Boo-hoo. So you had to spend one day- one!- away from Neji,"_ Shukaku grumbled at him. _"Do you know how pathetic you sound? In five hours, the two of you will be officially mated in all ways in the eyes of your kind, and no one will ever be able to take him from us. I think one day is an easy sacrifice to make for that."_

"You don't understand," Gaara accused the demon. "Five hours is more than enough time for him to change his mind."

"_You mortals,"_ the demon scoffed. _"Always so insecure. So what if he _does_ change his mind?"_

"I'd let him go," Gaara whispered.

"_No, you'd slaughter everyone and destroy everything between you and him, and you'd drag him back here,"_ Shukaku said. _"I know you don't understand this, but he. Is. Ours. Now, tomorrow, next week. Next year, next twenty years. Forever. He made his choice. He came here with us. He doesn't get to change his mind. I know he understands that. What I don't know is why _you_ don't understand it." _

Because, Gaara thought glumly, so few things ever worked out in his favor.

Someone knocked on the door. Gaara glared at it. He was sure everyone had been told to leave him alone, and so far they had. Everyone was too busy celebrating his upcoming nuptials to remember that he even existed. So who on earth was here to bother him?

No one, it turned out when Gaara opened the door. There was no one there. There was, however, a small box sitting on the floor, wrapped in gleaming silver paper. There was no card on top of the box. Gaara picked it up cautiously. Temari was supervising the collection of wedding presents at the other end of the village; apparently someone had decided he ought to open this one first.

Might as well not disappoint them. Gaara closed the door, setting the package down on his desk. He contemplated it a moment; it seemed innocuous enough. So he removed the decorative paper and opened the box.

Nestled inside was an ANBU mask. He thought it was meant to be a cat, but the stylized design of it kind of reminded him of a raccoon. He couldn't think why someone would want to give it to him.

He lifted the mask out of its protective nest of tissue paper, and beneath the mask, there was a note. There was no signature, but it was Neji's handwriting.

"_Meet me at Inochi's hotel,"_ read the note._ "Top floor, last room."_

The purpose for the mask was clear now. If he were to go outside as he was, there was no question that he would be recognized (he _was_ the Kazekage, after all), and almost certainly prevented from meeting with Neji, considering everyone seemed to agree with the tradition that they be kept apart until that afternoon. But there were dozens of ANBU throughout the village, going about their own secretive business in anonymity, and anyone that saw one tended to pretend they hadn't, letting the ANBU pass unrestricted. There were probably even more ANBU out than usual, considering the magnitude of today's event and the size of the crowds, so really, who would notice one more?

And Neji wanted to see him.

Smiling now, Gaara left his office to find something appropriately concealing to wear, to go along with his new persona as ANBU.

_.x.x.x._

Inochi's hotel was one of the smallest, plainest hotels in the village. As such, it tended to get the fewest guests. But what it lacked in extravagance, it made up for in a sort of charming simplicity, well built and well cared for, that made all those extra flourishes other hotels boasted seem wasteful and excessive.

But with so many visitors in Suna, even Inochi's hotel was running out of accommodations. Gaara didn't know how Neji had managed to procure a room when so many hotels had no vacancies. But Inochi, now in his late fifties, was a retired shinobi, and adamantly loyal to the Kazekage. If Neji had asked for a room on Gaara's behalf, Inochi would have done his utmost to provide it. The fact that Inochi's only grandchild, a pretty little girl named Nori that Inochi doted upon, had a little child's crush on Neji probably didn't hurt matters either.

As Gaara made his way through the village, everyone he passed blatantly ignored him. Covered head to toe, a hood hiding his red hair and the mask obscuring his face, he was ANBU to everyone who saw him, and so they accepted his presence and forgot him in almost the same thought. There was a time Gaara would have hated it, to be unseen that way, as though he'd ceased to exist, and now only walked through the world as a ghost. It didn't bother him now. Let all their eyes be on him later, at the wedding, let them all see and celebrate and envy him. There was only one person Gaara needed to see him now.

He didn't bother going through the lobby and up the stairs of the hotel. Gaara took a more direct route. Inochi's hotel had no balconies, but it did have windows, and the window of the last room on the top floor had been left just slightly open. Gaara used that for his entrance.

Someone was already waiting for him inside. They too wore an ANBU mask, this one styled as a falcon. Their clothes were as concealing as Gaara's, hiding their hair color and length, tone of their skin, even any hint to their gender, any physical characteristic aside from height that could be used to identify them. But Gaara didn't need to see any of their features to know who it was.

"You said it was tradition in your family that a couple be kept apart on the day of their wedding, until the ceremony took place," Gaara said.

"It is also tradition in my family for a couple to sneak out to see each other anyway," Neji answered. The mask hid his smile, but Gaara could hear it in his voice. "My uncle said we could consider the masks as part of our wedding present."

Neji removed the mask he wore and then the hood, shaking out his long dark hair as an automatic gesture. Gaara watched the way the meager light of the hotel room was caught in Neji's hair, making it shine. Neji held out a hand to Gaara, beckoning him forward, and Gaara didn't hesitate. It felt like forever since he'd last touched Neji, last been held by him, instead of only a day.

Neji lowered the hood Gaara wore, his fingers running through Gaara's short hair. Gaara relaxed at the feeling of being petted in that way, having not even realized how tense he'd actually been.

"I've missed you," Neji said softly. He drew back just a little, removing Gaara's mask and tossing it aside along with his own. Neji kissed Gaara, just the barest touch of lips to lips, but ever so sweet all the same. "I found myself counting the hours we were apart last night, and each felt so much longer than it should. I wonder if it will always be like this between us."

Gaara burrowed into Neji's embrace, not even attempting to hide his need for Neji's touch, for Neji's reassurance, for his love. "I started to think… that maybe you would…"

"That I would… what?" Neji asked with a smile. "That I would change my mind? About marrying you?"

Gaara nodded.

Neji pulled away suddenly, and Gaara released him, though he couldn't help the sudden sense of loss. Had he said something wrong? Was Neji mad at him?

But Neji's touch gentled away the panic as quickly as it had come. His fingertips brushed against the scar that marked Gaara's forehead. Gaara's gaze was drawn to Neji's face, to the uncovered curse seal that marked Neji's forehead. Overlaid on that was a scar, a kanji, perfectly matched to the one that marked Gaara. Gaara had made that mark on Neji himself, at Neji's request.

A reminder that Neji belonged to Gaara. And, Neji had said, that Gaara had been his first choice.

"You aren't going to change your mind, are you." It was a statement, not a question.

"No, I'm not." Neji answered it anyway.

"Alright. I just needed to know that," Gaara said. He glanced at the two discarded ANBU masks, lying together on the floor, nearly touching. "How long do you think before someone notices we're both missing?"

"Everyone is so busy with the preparations, it might be a while," Neji said. "Are there any other reassurances you need me to give you?"

Gaara took Neji's hand, leading him toward the heretofore ignored hotel bed. "There's only one thing I need you to give me now."

_.x.x.x._

The dream-memory released Gaara, but he was not immediately propelled back into his wakeful reality as he always had been in the past. Whatever Orochimaru had injected him with was still in his veins, preventing a return to consciousness. And so Gaara drifted through darkness and color and fragments of memories, none of them strong enough to hold him for long or involve him completely. Sometimes he was lucid and aware of the strange limbo he was suspended in, and sometimes he wasn't. Either way, he found it too hard to care. He was so tired, none of it seemed to matter.

For the longest time he seemed to be floating in nothingness, and he let it carry him without any thought as to where he might be swept to. Then awareness gathered, and Gaara found himself flat on his back on a warm stone floor. The nothingness swam above him, all black and bleeding redness. This wasn't a memory, it wasn't a dream, and it wasn't reality. What was this?

"Wouldn't you like to know?" taunted a voice. A voice Gaara knew better than his own. A voice he'd heard since he was a child, as long as he could remember.

"Shukaku?" Gaara asked. The voice didn't sound like it was inside his head, the way he'd always heard it. Had the demon gotten out? "Where are you?"

"Over here, moron," the demon answered from somewhere to Gaara's right.

Gaara sat up slowly- moving seemed so hard- and looked.

The bars of the cage rose up as though they were an extension of the floor. The wall of bars went on in either direction for as far as Gaara could see, and each bar was wider around then he was. He didn't see a door, but there was a gap in the cage, where three of the bars seemed to be crumbling away. From through this gap, a pair of eyes stared at Gaara, animal eyes. Demon eyes.

A beast lurked within that cage, a giant creature, the color of sand, with a massively bulky body. Despite its largesse, Gaara got the impression it was just as fast and deadly as any predator, and with its large sharp teeth and powerful jaws, it looked as though it could bite a school bus in half. A single thick tail swung to and fro lazily behind it. It crouched so its enormous face was level with the break in its cage.

"I think that picture of you was too kind," Gaara said. "Your ass is _gigantic._"

Shukaku snorted, buffeting Gaara with a foul-smelling exhale. "And if I were to step on you, you would be little more than a smear between my toes. I wouldn't even notice you enough to scrape your remains out."

"Where am I?" Gaara asked.

"Inside of yourself," the demon answered. It tapped a claw on one of the fully intact cage bars. "This is the seal, or rather, a visual manifestation of that which holds me within. As you can see, it's not in the very best shape."

"How did I get here?"

"How the hell should I know?" said Shukaku, rather irritably. "You let that Snake poison you, and somehow you ended up here. I swear, you need a damned babysitter."

"That's what Kyuubi said, actually," Gaara said.

"Don't compare me to that nine-tailed jackass," Shukaku growled.

"Why not? It seems like a perfectly reasonable thing to compare you two," Gaara said. He looked around the strange place he was in. Aside from the cage, there didn't seem to be anything else in any direction. "Is this what it looks like in Naruto?"

"Don't know, I've never been inside of Naruto." Shukaku made a face. "That didn't come out the way I meant it to. Anyway, this place doesn't really exist. It's more your perception, more or less what you imagine my confinement to look like. And seriously, would it have killed you to imagine me up a bit of furniture, even a nest of some sort? This damned stone floor's uncomfortable."

"Sure. The first thing I'll do when I get out of here is hire an interior decorator," Gaara muttered. He wondered what would happen if he tried walking away. Was there anything else out there in that weird red and black darkness, or would he end up right back at Shukaku's cage? "How do I get out of here, anyway?"

Shukaku's head tilted to one side, as it apparently gave this some serious thought. "Kill yourself?" it finally offered.

Gaara glared at it.

"Or I could do it for you," Shukaku continued with a smile. "Wouldn't be difficult. All it would take is… this." It reached a hand through the break in the cage.

Everything shuddered, as though Shukaku had plucked a string of reality. Fresh redness suffused the empty spaces surrounding them, and the floor warped around the cage, shading a strange bruise-like purple. Gaara lost his balance as everything distorted wildly around him.

Shukaku chuckled and withdrew his hand back into his confinement. The world ceased trembling, though deformities remained upon the floor and the darkness. The demon's merest touch had left scars.

"Nice, huh?" Shukaku said with obvious pride. "Bet you spit blood from that one."

"What did you do?" Gaara demanded, from where he had been relocated from standing to sitting on the floor.

"So long as I'm in here, you're safe," Shukaku said. He sighed, examining his claws. "If I cross the line, even a little bit, my power scorches you, tears you up inside. You'd die, which under different circumstances, I'd buy tickets to see. I'd even splurge on the jumbo-sized popcorn. Unfortunately for me, when you finally kick the bucket, I've got all this demony awesome and no vessel left to contain it in. In short, when this body goes, so goes I. And I'm not holding out a lot of hope for one of those dying-in-your-sleep type endings, either."

Gaara nodded, eying the break in the bars. It seemed that with Shukaku's little flex in power, the seal had broken a little further. The gap was turning ugly colors around the edges, like a wound beginning to fester. "So this is what Kyuubi's going through…"

Shukaku's eyes widened. "Fox-face cracked his seal too?" He burst into wild laughter, shaking with the force of his mirth, and the cage shuddered with him. Another of the columns cracked, and a chunk the size of a boulder broke loose. Gaara had to dodge it as it crashed to the floor.

"Oh damn… heheh… ow… heh." Shukaku clutched his side, forcibly suppressing his amusement for the sake of preventing any more damage. "Can't believe I missed something that good while I was down here recouping. I'd pay _big_ money to watch that one explode!"

"You don't have any money," Gaara reminded the demon.

"Well, if I _did_, I _would._" Shukaku settled down, careful not to touch any of the cage bars. They were starting to look not too sturdy. "So what else did I miss? How long have I been out of it? Two days? Three?"

"At least."

Shukaku lost his smile, going suddenly serious. "How's Neji?"

"I don't know." Gaara shook his head. "Orochimau has him, too. And Naruto and Kyuubi. He's doing some kind of experiments on them, on all of us. He said he'd keep Neji safe, but…"

"But you can't trust snakes," Shukaku muttered. "You've got to get Neji out of here."

"Maybe you haven't noticed, but I'm so heavily drugged right now that I'm hallucinating the physical embodiment of the voice in my head," Gaara said. "Don't really see how much good I'll be able to do for Neji while trapped inside my own mind. And _he's _trapped in _his,_ and he's hooked up to all these weird machines, and Orochimaru could kill him just by typing the right password into his computer!"

Shukaku stared at him for a long moment. Finally it said, quite reasonably, "You know, all of this could have been avoided if you'd just killed Tashimura the first time I told you to."

"Sure, right. Because everything would have just been _so_ much better if I'd been the homicidal maniac you always wanted me to be."

"No need for sarcasm," the demon said. "It's just the _next_ time I tell you to murder somebody in cold blood, you might want to listen to me. Because you know, people who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it."

Gaara grit his teeth. "I think you're even more obnoxious face-to-face than you ever were when I just thought I was crazy."

Shukaku huffed. "You know, I was going to help you out here, but I'm starting to think you don't deserve it."

"Help?" Gaara asked suspiciously. "Help with what?"

"Whatever it was that the Snake injected you with isn't just a hallucinogen; it's toxic. This stuff is killing you by degrees. I don't know if he's _trying_ to kill you of if he just got the dosage wrong, or what. Suppose it won't matter in the end, since, you know, you'll be dead," Shukaku said. "It'd serve you right, too."

"Why didn't you tell me that earlier?!" Gaara found it suddenly hard to swallow. "You said… if I died, you'd die too."

"Yeah, well, we died once before, and look how far that got us? Reincarnated and doing the whole damned thing over again. So I figured, hey, why not? Sure, there's the whole messy and excruciating death thing to get through first. But after that, I was thinking maybe your next reincarnation will be a bit more amenable."

"You would let us die… you would let _Neji _die?!"

Shukaku laughed; the cage trembled ominously. "Relax, I'm joking. Look, there's still time to purge the poison, but you're not gonna like my method. I'm not going to let that Snake or his experiments get the better of me, so if I get you out of this mess, you're gonna find a way to get this seal fixed, get Neji out of here and to someplace safe, and preferably, make Orochimaru sorry he ever met you."

"You don't ask for much, do you?" Gaara asked. "What's your method?"

Shukaku shifted uneasily. "Burn it out."

"What?"

"Look, I can't do a damn thing from this side of the seal," Shukaku said. "Do you remember ever getting sick? Even so much as the sniffles? Much as I'd love to see you get malaria or something equally noxious and deadly, I've always understood that I gotta live in this dump too. The seal, when whole, still isn't impermeable. I could get little amounts of chakra through the barrier, and it's always been enough to clean out any virus, bacteria or toxin that's come along. I can do that now, but the seal is broken; my chakra's gonna pour through this thing like a faucet. It'll get the poison out, all right, but I might end up evaporating half your blood supply along with it."

"And the alternative?" Gaara asked.

Shukaku shrugged a massive shoulder. "Dead if you do, dead if you don't. The poison kills you. Or the seal will break, and then…" He chuckled unpleasantly. "Boom."

Gaara just looked at him. The demon waited. Gaara looked at the crumbling bars of Shukaku's prison. If Shukaku released his chakra with the seal in this condition, the whole damned thing might collapse. It wouldn't matter then if Shukaku had eradicated the poison or not; all that power loose and expanding would scour away all that Gaara was before burning away his corpse into ashes and husk.

The same thing that might be happening to Kyuubi at that very moment. Gaara had brought Kyuubi here, had said, somehow they would fix what had been broken. Kyuubi had trusted him.

_Neji_ had trusted him. And look what he'd gotten them both into.

"So?" Shukaku finally demanded. "Decided how you want to die yet? Or are you waiting for me to decide for you?"

"You can burn the poison out," Gaara decided, "but I don't plan on dying."

"Famous last words," the demon muttered. "Hold onto something; this might get a little wild."

Gaara was about to point out to Shukaku that not only was there nothing to hold onto, this whole thing was all in his head anyway, so holding onto something wouldn't have helped much anyway. Then the demon leapt forward, and as it crashed up against the cage and the bars shattered and crashed to the ground, everything Gaara knew splintered into blinding shrieks of agony. He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. He was on fire, his very being scorching from the sheer intensity of a power no mortal was ever meant to contain.

_.x.x.x._

"_Hey,"_ Shukaku whispered. _"Wake up."_

"Shhh," Gaara hissed, hardly able to raise his voice beyond the barest of whispers. "I'm busy being dead."

"_You're not dead, just emo. Admittedly, it's a fine line between the two, so I can see how you'd get them confused,"_ the demon answered. He didn't sound too much better, but obviously he felt well enough to snark. _"Alright, one thing at a time. Open your eyes."_

"Can't."

Shukaku let out a long-suffering sigh. _"Gaara, open your eyes right now or I will do something horrible."_

"Use my soul as a charcoal briquette?"

"_Worse. I'll sing."_

Gaara cracked his eyes open as much as he dared, despite the sharp flares of renewed pain even that tiny movement caused him.

"_Ha. I knew that would get you," _Shukaku said. _"Okay, next step; sit up."_

"Not a chance," Gaara groaned. "And no threat of inflicting me with your tone-deafness is going to make me change my mind."

"_Gaara-"_

"Shukaku, I feel like you took a rusty cheese-grater to every inch of my insides. So you are going to shut up right now and let me go into shock and die in _peace_, you understand?"

"_Okay! Fine. Sheesh." _The demon fell silent.

"Good." Gaara closed his eyes and counted to three. _One… two… three._

"_But could you maybe wait to die until after we fix the seal and get Neji out of here?"_ Shukaku spoke up again, right on cue. _"Oh, and I've kind of got this list of people I have to kill before our next reincarnation, so if you wouldn't mind holding out until I get a few of those names crossed off, I'd really appreciate it." _

"Fine, right. I'll get right on that. Right after I have a chat with this very persuasive coma…"

"_Damn it, I did not scrape all your insides raw with a rusty cheese-grater just to have you go into a coma, no matter how good at debate it is!"_ Shukaku growled. _"You've got a job to do here. You've got to save Neji and Kyuubi."_

"I- wait, what? You want me to save Kyuubi?"

"_Of course I do. What kind of insensitive demon do you think I am?"_ Shukaku said. _"I'M the only one that gets to kill that damned fox-bastard, so you have to make sure he doesn't die before I get the chance." _

"Let me guess- he's one of the people on your list?"

"_He'd be at the TOP of the list if it weren't for Tashimura and Orochimaru. So Kyuubi will just have to wait his turn." _

"I'm sure he will be very disappointed," Gaara said. He let out his breath in a long sigh. It didn't hurt quite as much to breathe anymore. He still wasn't convinced _moving_ would be in his immediate future, however. "What's the verdict? Am I going to die?"

"_Eventually. Everybody does." _

"I mean, am I going to die _today_?"

"_What do you think I am, psychic?" _Shukaku demanded. _"I've done what I can for you. The poison's gone, but you may notice, the cure's hardly better than the disease. The seal is in real bad shape after that little stunt, too, so you're out of luck if you're expecting any more help from me. If I do any more, we're both dead. You may feel feverish and dizzy for a while, too; my chakra is leaking pretty steadily now. It's not at red-alert mode yet, but it's only a matter of time. That answer your question?" _

"No," Gaara said. He sat up by degrees, trying not to wince or cry out as his every muscle screamed in protest. Pain caused his vision to blur in and out, and he was breathing heavily by the time he finally managed to reach an upright position. Shukaku hadn't been kidding when he'd said Gaara wouldn't like his method. Gaara didn't feel up to rescuing anybody, even himself. If it had been that hard just to sit up, standing would be pure torture.

"_And I do so love torture,"_ Shukaku said.

"Then you're going to love this." Gaara, in an effort to get the whole laborious and painful process over with, scooted off the table as quickly as he could, standing through a sheer force of will. Pain sizzled through his every vein like liquid lightning, and he almost fainted.

"_Woo!" _the demon cheered as Gaara fought to clear the dancing black spots out of his vision. _"What a rush! Do that again!" _

"Hate you," Gaara rasped, leaning heavily on the table for support. "So much hate you."

"_Now, now. Don't hate me until you try walking,"_ Shukaku advised. _"Then you can hate me." _

Gaara stood as still as he could until the agony settled down into a dull roar, before attempting to take a few steps. Each one brought fresh pain, but it was settling now, almost bearable. He rationed his breathing, shambling awkwardly through the room. It wasn't too far to the door, thankfully, though the path was a bit awkward, cluttered as the room was with machinery and electronics. The door wasn't locked, surprising Gaara, but Orochimaru probably never intended for his test subject to wake up, much less to make a break for it.

The utter darkness of the hallway was something of a relief to Gaara, who amid all his other pain, had not realized how badly the brightness of his room had hurt his eyes. He could see so much better in the dark than he'd been able to the first time he'd made the trip down this hall. He wondered if that had something to do with Shukaku.

Gaara stood there a long time, just looking into the darkness, leaning against a convenient wall and just trying to decide what to do next. He idly wondered if whatever Shukaku had done to him had fried his brain as well, because it was awfully hard to make himself think. _"I don't know where I'm going,"_ Gaara finally informed the demon, silently in case the hall was being monitored.

"_About fifteen feet ahead and on the right," _Shukaku said. _"Kyuubi. I can smell him. There must be a door. And, I smell… Sasuke?"_

"_Sasuke?" _Gaara repeated. _"He's here too?"_

"_You're surprised? The Snake did seem extraordinarily focused on getting Sasuke to come to your stupid Ninja Club meetings, if you recall. If you ask me, Orochimaru's got a special place in his shriveled little heart for that one." _

"_If I didn't know it would probably kill me, I think I'd be sick." _

Gaara moved forward as quickly as he could manage, which wasn't much. It got easier to move with every step, the intensity of his pain throbbing dully now in his veins. He wondered if it was really getting better, or if he was only getting used to it. He decided not to question it too much, and just be grateful.

"_Stop here!" _Shukaku commanded when Gaara had made it partway down the hall. _"This is it."_

"_This?" _Gaara asked. He trailed his hand on the wall. There was nothing there, no door. _"You're losing it, Shukaku."_

"_I can smell them," _the demon growled insistently. _"I'd never mistake that smell. Kyuubi, and Sasuke. Neji's been through this way, too. There's a way in, I know there is! You're not looking hard enough."_

Gaara couldn't see anything very well, so he didn't know how Shukaku expected him to look any harder. But to appease the demon, Gaara ran his hands over the semi-rough concrete of the walls, as though there was some door there he'd magically been unable to see. This inspection revealed no invisible entrance, and Gaara was just about ready to give up, when his hand came in contact with a roughly rectangular indent in the wall. Inside this indent was a lever.

"_Ha," _Shukaku gloated. _"I bet if you pull that, it'll reveal some fancy secret doorway. Classic for these evil villain types. He really should have hidden it behind a bookcase, for tradition's sake, but I'll assume he was just trying to be modern. Nothing wrong with modernization. Now all we need is a hunchback named Igor, and we're all set."_

"Orochimaru is not Dr. Frankenstein. For one thing, all of Dr. Frankenstein's experiments were already dead when he started," Gaara muttered. He pulled at the lever; it wouldn't budge. "Plus, Orochimaru already has the secret to eternal life. I mean, if you believe all that stuff he was talking about."

"I take it you don't?" asked an amused voice from the darkness.

Gaara spun around so fast he almost tripped. Orochimaru stood there in the hall, as though he'd been there all along, watching Gaara fumble around trying to get the door open.

"I see I need to do some work on my security," Orochimaru said lightly. "But then, I hadn't really expected you to wake so soon. Amazing the recuperative properties that are afforded to those bound to demons."

"You weren't expecting me to wake up _ever_, were you?" Gaara said. Orochimaru had poisoned him, maybe even intentionally. Gaara couldn't believe he'd trusted a snake like him.

But Orochimaru looked genuinely surprised at the accusation. "Of course you would have woken up eventually. With the others, the drug usually keeps them out for about forty-eight hours at a time. I was expecting that in you it would metabolize more quickly and you'd wake sooner, but I certainly didn't suspect you'd be up and about in less than three hours. I'll have to up the dosage on the next try."

Gaara shook his head. "I think one attempted murder for one day is enough, don't you?"

"_What doesn't kill you," _Shukaku quoted, _"will probably try again." _

And if Orochimaru got another dosage of that toxic chemical into Gaara's system, it was almost a guarantee he would never be waking up again. Whether or not Orochimaru intended it, he would end up killing Gaara, and way ahead of schedule.

"Oh well," Orochimaru said, apparently not even bothering to take Gaara's opinion into account. "It is little surprises like this that make such experimentation necessary, after all. We'll simply have to return you to your room, and begin again. Don't you think?"

"No," Gaara said.

Even in the dark, Gaara could see the patronization in Orochimaru's smile. "Now Gaara, I thought you understood what I'd be forced to do if you refused to participate. Is another demonstration necessary to refresh your memory?"

"I won't let you hurt him," Gaara said. "But I'm not going back in that room, and I won't submit to any more 'experimentation'." Gaara _did_ remember what Orochimaru had done to Neji the last time Gaara had refused to be a test subject. But submitting to Orochimaru's whims wasn't an option this time; Gaara would end up a _failed_ experiment, and there would be no one to get Neji out of here. Gaara didn't care what he had to do- he would smash every one of those computers in that control room if he had to- but he wouldn't let Orochimaru torture Neji any more. Just thinking about it practically made Gaara's blood boil.

And speaking of boiling, it _was_ getting awfully hot in there. Gaara leaned back against the wall for support against a sudden wave of dizziness. He closed his eyes tightly, and when he opened them, the sheer disorientation nearly made him sick. The world had gone weird in the half second his eyes had been shut. The formerly darkened hallway, with its exceptionally limited visibility, now shone with such perfected clarity that it was almost blinding. Gaara had been sure there was no light source anywhere to be found, and yet he could see as though he were outside in the full light of day.

"_Gaara…"_ Shukaku interjected in a tense tone.

"_Not now."_ Gaara closed his eyes again, tighter this time, trying to block out the brightness. It didn't help. He could still see the light through his eyelids. It made everything very red.

Orochimaru was saying something, as though nothing were happening, but Gaara didn't hear him. Everything had become nothing but a white noise beyond the increasing thud of his heartbeat. He felt as though his whole body trembled in time to that beat. Everything that had happened in the past week- Neji's injury, mauling Tashimura, the asylum and his escape from it, getting trapped here- was bearing down on his mind, building and unconceivable pressure on the very core of his being.

His blood was scorching in his veins, and the fires were consuming him.

"_No fire,"_ Shukaku moaned in pain. _"The seal is crumbling. I'm out, I'm free. We're both going to die."_

Gaara took a ragged breath, and opened his eyes. In the alien precision of his enhanced vision, he could see Orochimaru preparing a new syringe. The snake couldn't tell, hadn't even realized what was going on right in front of him. That the seal had broken, and the demon was loose. That all the poison in the world wouldn't matter now, because Gaara had only moments to live anyway.

"_Shukaku?" _Gaara had a hard time forming a thought coherent enough to talk to the demon.

"_Nnnyeah?" _

"_Are we really going to die now?"_

Shukaku's uneven breathing was his only reply. The demon was in pain, expanding into a shell too small to contain it, destroying everything it touched, killing Gaara as it went, killing itself.

"_Shukaku!"_ Gaara snapped at the demon. _"Answer me! Is this the end?"_

Shukaku shifted painfully- Gaara could feel it now, like a writhing knot of electric agony buried somewhere under his ribcage. _"Yeah,"_ Shukaku whispered. _"Looks that way."_

"_Then we go out with a bang,"_ Gaara said. _"What do you say?"_

Silence. Then Shukaku chuckled.

"_Boom."_

Orochimaru looked up. A slight frown crossed his face, as some survival instinct informed him that not everything was as it should be. He lifted the syringe a little, tiny and useless weapon that it was.

Gaara smiled at him. And the world exploded.

The pressure in Gaara's head burst, and it seemed to sear through him and burn outward from there, flames of feverish chakra scorching everything it touched. The building shook violently, and concrete crumbled… into sand. Rivers of sand poured out of the walls, leaked up out of the floor, summoned by Gaara's chakra and his fury. It came to his summons, swirling around him, enveloping him. It clothed him, it fused with him. He could see in his mind's eye what he was becoming. Huge, fanged, clawed, powerful. With eyes burning hatred, and a long tail swishing out behind him. An animal made for fury and destruction; a monster that would kill for the pure enjoyment of it.

Gaara was a demon. And at last, he felt no pain.


	23. Conclusive

Gaara stood at the center of the sandstorm. Everything was at once chaos and inexplicable calm. To his mind, time had relaxed its grip on reality, and in slow motion he watched the remaining tide of sand abate, the swirling tempest dying down, leaving only a foot deep layer of the granular mess coating the floor. The rest of the summoned sand clothed Gaara, moving as one with his body, a part of him. He could feel the sand as though it were his own skin.

His bulky demonic form took up most of the small hallway, blocking off the escape route to the stairs. The building had stopped shaking when Gaara had ceased drawing sand from the concrete of its foundations, though it now creaked ominously on its weakened supports. Gaara had to crouch just to fit, and still his sandy back brushed the ceiling.

Sensations- almost more than he could bear- assaulted his every sense. His eyesight was so burningly acute it turned the utter darkness of the underground hall as bright as morning. There were layers of smells, the sourness of chemicals, the continuous burn of machinery, and heavy incense spread thick over it all.

"You don't want to do this," Orochimaru said. His voice was calm, so controlled, but Gaara's new unnatural hearing detected the Snake's heartbeat spiking. Gaara was doing worse than spoiling his experiments; he was _scaring_ him. The beast Gaara had become could taste the acrid fear, and he delighted in it.

"Go ahead," Gaara growled, his voice barely recognizable as human. He advanced on Orochimaru, and Gaara saw him flinch, as though just barely suppressing the instinct to retreat. "Poison me. Stab me. Cut me up. I'm just one more test subject to you, aren't I? Then go on; try it!"

As though to punctuate his words, the building above them shuddered and creaked, a low groan. Like it were in pain. Orochimaru glanced at the ceiling, calculating the damage it had sustained.

"You've undermined the foundations of the house," Orochimaru said. It was a change of topic, and Gaara didn't like it.

"So?"

"So, in your current form, you'll probably survive having a large building fall to pieces on you," Orochimaru said. "The same can't be said for your friends."

Gaara shifted, and he could feel the ceiling above him trembling as his bulky frame brushed against it. It didn't take more than a thought to call up thick pillars of sand from the earth below the man-made foundations. The pillars jutted in irregular intervals down the hallway, propping up the ceiling and the building above. Gaara almost laughed; this was _easy_. It was like a sixth sense, able to feel and know and command the sand that surrounded him. They were underground, and the earth had more sand he could ever need. Even the concrete of the house's foundations could be his weapon- after all, what was concrete but sand and cement?

"I'm impressed," Orochimaru said. "You've managed to reawaken much more of your old abilities than any test subject before you, and in so short a time. I'd love to know how-"

"Stop talking," Gaara growled.

Ropes of sand lashed out of the wall behind Orochimaru with inhuman speed, wrapping around the man in grotesque parody of an embrace, and jerking him back hard enough to crack his head against the wall. Orochimaru's expression was a brief flash of surprise and pain, before a slack blankness replaced it and the Snake went unconscious.

"_Is he dead?"_ Shukaku demanded immediately. The sand released its captive, and Orochimaru slumped to the ground. _"Don't tell me he's dead. No way we're letting him off that easy."_

"He's not dead." Gaara didn't even need to check Orochimaru's pulse; he could hear the man breathing.

Shukaku breathed a sigh of relief. _"That's great. Okay, once he wakes up, we'll start breaking his bones. I like to start with little ones first, like the toes, and work on up. It'll give him time to work up a really good scream."_

"I'm not going to break his bones."

"_Fine, have it your way. Bet you want to skip the classics like making him swallow his teeth, then ripping open his stomach to remove them so he can do it again, too,"_ Shukaku grumbled. _"If you insist, we'll go straight to crushing him into fine sticky paste, but on your next murder, I'm really gonna have to dock you points for lack of artistry." _

"I'm not going to kill him." Gaara let out a breath, watching it stir the fine sandy particles that floated lazily in the air. "Why aren't we dead?"

"_Huh?"_

"Forty seconds ago we were dying. There was chakra, and burning, and _pain_, and we were dying. You said it was the end. Boom. Remember?"

"_Oh. Right, that."_ There was silence as the demon considered, and then Shukaku laughed. _"Take a look at yourself."_

Gaara looked. He still looked like a monster. The sand clothed him, was a part of him. He looked strong, and he felt strong. He felt better than he had in a long while. He certainly didn't feel like he was dying. He just didn't understand how he'd gotten to that point.

"_How much chakra do you think it takes to maintain a form like this?"_ Shukaku asked. _"No, don't answer. You have no idea. A lot. A lot more than you've got right now. I'm what's holding this form together, what's keeping this house from falling down. My chakra. All that chakra that should, by rights, be turning your insides into Gaara-flambé. It's been diverted."_

"Why didn't you tell me we could do that?" Gaara demanded.

He could almost hear the demon shrug. _"I didn't know we could."_ Shukaku sighed. _"Don't get your hopes up. You can't exactly go around in public like this, and even if we can siphon off the excess, it's still no good to have the seal broken. But it has granted us at least a delay of execution, I'll give you that." _

"Great." Gaara looked over at Orochimaru's unconscious form, and wondered what to do with him. He knew better than to ask Shukaku for suggestions.

"_Not that it would stop me from offering them,"_ Shukaku said.

Gaara didn't want to kill Orochimaru. Oh, he wanted to hurt him, _punish_ him, but it hadn't gone over so well when Gaara had given in to those urges with Tashimura. And really, Gaara wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from killing Orochimaru once he got started. He'd neutralized the threat for now; any further torture would be self-serving, and Gaara didn't have time for that.

Sand scooped Orochimaru off the floor, carting him none-too-gently down the hall to the room Gaara had been kept in. He took a moment to let the sand smash all the machinery into unrecognizable hunks of metal, then dumped Orochimaru in the middle of it. Gaara locked him in, and that would have to satisfy him for now.

Now, he was going to get Neji out of here.

The hidden door proved no hindrance this time around- it was weakened from the amount of sand Gaara had leeched from it already, and with his newly augmented strength, it barely took a few seconds to rip the door straight out of its framework. The building above them shuddered briefly at Gaara's show of force.

Heady incense swamped his mind, and he had to shake off its numbing effect before he could step into the room beyond. He stopped up short in the entryway, taking in the scene he was presented with.

The left half of the rather large room was crammed full of more machinery, whirring and clicking and monitoring, and all of it hooked up to Sasuke Uchiha, laying prone on an exam table in the middle of it all. He didn't look to be conscious. He also didn't look as though he was sleeping peacefully, either.

The right side of the room looked distinctly less sci-fi and far more into the realm of the occult. Most of the space was taken up by strange writing on the walls, ceiling and floor, in a language Gaara couldn't recognize, and patterned designs that had no meaning to him. Centered in the midst of this tableau was a large circle drawn on the ground, the sort of thing one would see in a bad horror movie about summoning demons. Gaara would never have believed such a hokey thing could work, except there _was_ a demon seemingly trapped in the middle of this circle.

Kyuubi was farther along in his transformation than he'd been the last time Gaara had seen him, just a few hours before. The vulpine elongation of Naruto's face was far more pronounced at this point, and a pair of fox tails swished in agitation behind him. He was shaking, his long claws digging gouges into the concrete as though it were clay. There was blood dripping from the corners of his mouth, and his arms bled from long scratches, like he'd been tearing at his own flesh.

The fox demon looked up when Gaara entered, affording him a pained smile. "Shukaku. You're uglier than I remember. Gaara really ought to put you on a diet."

"_Yeah, and you don't look like a fancy fur coat either, fox-face,"_ Shukaku growled back, even though Kyuubi couldn't hear him.

"It's me, Kyuubi," Gaara said. "Shukaku's here too, but he… we broke the seal."

"So you did," Kyuubi agreed. "It's a great big shit pile of not fun, isn't it?" He spat blood on the floor, then almost collapsed as a bout of coughing overtook him, but it looked as though he'd emptied even the bile out of his stomach long ago.

"_Can't he do what we did?" _Gaara asked Shukaku as he watched Kyuubi's suffering. _"Divert his chakra or something, so it's not tearing him to pieces?"_

"_Yeah sure; transforming into a fifty-foot tall nine-tailed fox might work off enough of his excess chakra to keep Naruto's body alive for a little while. At least until the Air Force and the National Guard and probably every Animal Control Center within a hundred miles of here caught wind of his existence and showed up to vaporize him out of it," _Shukaku retorted. _"Can't say that Naruto would survive the effort of transformation either, without the buffer of the seal. Never thought I'd be so glad to only have a fraction of Kyuubi's level of power; if I had as much chakra as he does, even this effort to divert it wouldn't be nearly enough to save us." _

Kyuubi straightened from his fit of coughing, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand, which only served to smear blood over his lips. "Ought to get Orochimaru to draw you up one of these circles," the demon said, gesturing to the lines that surrounded him. "Don't know how it works, but it seems to be slowing my chakra. It's not leaking as fast as it was." He glanced ruefully at the two tails behind him; a third one seemed to be attempting to make itself known. "Of course, it's all relative."

"Orochimaru had an… accident," Gaara muttered.

Kyuubi stared at him suspiciously. "You didn't." His eyes narrowed when Gaara made no reply. "You did! Damn it, Gaara, that was my one chance at maybe not _dying horribly_. I might not understand everything that's going on between you and him and Neji and what the _hell_ he's doing to Sasuke over there, but you didn't have to go and kill the bastard-"

"I didn't kill him," Gaara interrupted him. "Maybe I should have, because he tried to kill _me_, and threatened to kill _you_, and Neji, and Sasuke. I don't think he was going to fix you. We're just lab rats to him, some kind of bizarre experiment on past lives and memories and who knows what else. He probably wanted to dissect you."

Kyuubi stared at him slack-jawed for a second. After a moment he drew himself up as regally as he could, despite all his brokenness. He'd accepted that his death was inevitable. "Then what do you suggest we do?" Kyuubi asked, in a tone that said clearly he knew there was _nothing_ they could do, nothing helpful to him, at any rate.

Even if Gaara couldn't do anything to help Kyuubi, he wasn't about to leave the demon to his fatalistic doom in the basement of a structurally unstable house. Kyuubi would just have to enjoy his fatalistic doom in the comforts of his own home. "I'm getting you all out of here."

"Sasuke," Kyuubi rasped. "You can get Sasuke out. And Neji; he's that way." Kyuubi jerked his head in the direction of the far wall in indication. There was a door there Gaara hadn't noticed, blending in almost seamlessly with its surrounding wall. "You can get them out."

Gaara heard what Kyuubi left unsaid. "And you, too."

Kyuubi laughed without mirth, shaking his head. "Sure, yeah," he murmured, agreeing without really agreeing.

He could argue the point, but Gaara knew he didn't really have time for that. Kyuubi could stay where he was until Gaara freed Neji and Sasuke, but the demon was mistaken if he thought Gaara would leave him behind. But instead of pressing to make sure his intentions were perfectly clear, Gaara moved to the bank of machinery that held Sasuke in its thrall.

Gaara didn't know what most of the equipment did. Did Sasuke need any of it, or all of it, to stay alive, or could Gaara just start unplugging things? A lot of it seemed to be attached directly to Sasuke, long tubes supplying him with chemicals through a dozen little needles inserted into the skin. Sasuke's breathing was fast, and Gaara could see that under his closed eyelids, Sasuke's eyes were scanning back and forth at a rapid pace. He was dreaming, Gaara guessed, imbedded deeply into a long ago memory. Had Orochimaru poisoned him, as he had with Gaara? Could Gaara even wake him from the past life that claimed his mind?

"_When in doubt, break stuff," _Shukaku supplied helpfully.

Gaara decided that, for just this once, he would listen to his demon.

A heavy bludgeon of sand smashed the first of the machines into the wall. From there, it grabbed electronics at random, squeezing them as though with a giant fist, and tossing the crumpled and flattened remains away like so much garbage. While the sand performed its little smash session with almost gleeful abandon, Gaara went to work unhooking Sasuke. He tried to work out the needles as quickly and carefully as he could, not wanting to accidentally cause injury (no matter what Shukaku thought about it.) Sasuke didn't stir at all as the sand rampaged around him, didn't so much as twitch as the first few needles were removed.

But as Gaara was working to remove the sixth needle, Sasuke snatched out suddenly with his free hand, clamping around Gaara's wrist. With inhuman strength, Sasuke flung Gaara across the length of the room.

The sand cushioned him, of course, as he crashed loudly into the wall. The house above shook on impact, raining down a brief shower of dust and debris. Gaara lay there a moment, all but gawking, too stunned by his sudden relocation for the moment to really understand how it had occurred.

Sasuke was sitting up now, staring at the remaining needles in his arms, as if he'd never seen anything like them before. Slowly, his gaze traveled across the devastation of the machinery, the glyphs drawn on the wall, Kyuubi trapped within his circular seal. Kyuubi gave a little wave at him, but Sasuke just stared, seeing but strangely unseeing. His gaze turned at last to Gaara, and Gaara saw Sasuke's eyes were red. After a few seconds, Sasuke himself seemed to realize that as well. His eyes resumed their normal color, though the confusion in his gaze barely wavered.

"Gaara," Sasuke said, his voice raw. Like he'd been screaming. "Shukaku. Gaara? I think… I think you're dead."

So much for the stray hope Sasuke would be able to transfer seamlessly from one reality to another. He was probably getting parts of this life and the last mixed up. "I'm not dead," Gaara said.

"_Yet,"_ Shukaku couldn't resist adding.

Ignoring Shukaku, Gaara asked, "What do you remember?"

Sasuke let out a little noise, almost an involuntary laugh. "You'll have to be more specific," he murmured. He cleared his throat, and it seemed to help with some of the rasp. "The last thing I remember before you woke me up… is my fortieth birthday party. Do you know how hard it is for an entire village- even a ninja village- to throw a surprise birthday party for the Hokage and have it actually be a surprise?" He shook his head, dazedly, as if he was grudgingly bemused that they'd made the effort for such a doomed endeavor.

Kyuubi made an odd sound, that might have been a laugh, but maybe not. "Hokage. _You_. Hokage? I don't believe it. Not you. Not after everything… Naruto will freak when he finds out. If he finds out…"

Sasuke just shrugged it off, and with it, apparently the residual memories that were fogging his mind as well. "What happened to you two?"

"Oh, you know," Kyuubi said. "Naruto remembered one of the more unsavory things about his past life, had a bad chakra reaction, and now the seal is broken and we're in a state of molecular meltdown. Gaara brought us here to get fixed, and it turns out Orochimaru just wanted to play mad scientist with out minds and out past lives. Shukaku apparently broke _his_ seal too, and I'm thinking I should have just stayed in bed today."

Sasuke looked at Kyuubi, then at Gaara. "You're dying." It was a statement, but kind of a question as well.

Gaara just gave a sort of half nod. "But I'm getting you and Neji and Kyuubi out of here before I do." He shot a glare at Kyuubi, daring the fox demon to correct him, but Kyuubi just offered a pained, though toothy, grin at him. Gaara took that to be agreement enough, and he got up from where he was, returning to work on unhooking the rest of the equipment from Sasuke.

Sasuke just watched him, an oddly contemplative look on his face. His eyes focused into the sharingan and back again, as if he were seeing things he couldn't quite explain, things that Gaara somehow hadn't noticed. Gaara ignored the looks as he worked, and Sasuke didn't press for any sort of conversation. Gaara assumed this was because there wasn't anything more to say. But apparently, there was.

"I can fix it," Sasuke said, a touch of awe in his voice.

Gaara froze in mid-motion. "Fix what?"

"The seal," Sasuke said. "I remember how. I remember a lot of things, now. The Hokage got access to any library in Konoha, even the most secret, and I would spend hours in them…"

Gaara stared at Sasuke. Then he looked over at Kyuubi. Kyuubi was staring at Sasuke too. Abruptly, the fox demon started laughing. It was wild laughter, and scared, and relieved.

"I think Orochimaru might have done us a _favor_, hooking you up to all that and making you relive your past," Kyuubi finally said, breathlessly, as the laughter tapered off. "The Hokage would have known all about sealing up a demon…"

Gaara returned his incredulous stare to Sasuke. "You can really fix us?"

"_He can't,"_ Shukaku insisted. _"He may have the Hokage's memories, but he can't possibly have the Hokage's chakra…"_

By way of answer, Sasuke said only, "Do you have any other choice?"

It was Kyuubi who answered that one. "No, we don't." He uncurled himself a little from his corner, straightening himself up, more comfortable now in his poorly fitting skin now that hope, even a small hope, tempered the certainty of death. "Fix Gaara first."

"_No arguments here!" _Shukaku added.

Sasuke looked between the two, his expression inscrutable. He finally nodded curtly in agreement, his eyes transitioning to back to red. He moved awkwardly off the examination table, seeming somehow both awkward and at ease in his movements. Gaara could see it now, the shadows of Sasuke's recovered past asserting itself over him. His body was being forced to remember everything his mind did, and Gaara did not envy him the complications that would undoubtedly ensue.

He could see remnants of the Hokage Sasuke had once been in the way he stood now, with an unconscious, no-nonsense sort of authority. Sasuke looked over the wreckage Gaara had made of the machinery. "We'll need more room," Sasuke said.

The sand swept as much as it could out of the way, mashing much of it against the wall, making a rather artistic rendition of the insides of a trash compactor. Sasuke immediately moved into the newly cleared space, pacing through it for a moment. When he found a piece of chalk, which Gaara presumed had been left behind from making Kyuubi's circle, it seemed Sasuke had found precisely what he'd been looking for, and he proceeded to cover every inch of the floor with more of those arcane and complicated symbols that took up the other half of the room. Gaara didn't think he was seeing the same thing Sasuke was, but with his demon-enhanced eyesight, Gaara could detect a subtle shimmer, sort of a pulsing to the strange drawings.

Even Kyuubi looked somewhat mystified by all of this, so Gaara guessed this hadn't been the way the fox demon had originally been sealed into Naruto. Or maybe Kyuubi just didn't remember the process very well. At one point, Sasuke paused, glared at the chalk lines, then bit hard on the tip of one finger and made a dozen or so more marks with his own blood.

"_There are a lot of different ways of creating seals,"_ Shukaku pointed out. _"Sealing up a demon usually involves somebody dying. Fixing a seal already in place won't be quite so drastic. Unfortunately."_

Sasuke sat back, surveying his handiwork for a second, before tossing the stub of the chalk to the side. His hands effortlessly shaped strange gestures, almost too fast for Gaara to follow, though he felt a vague sense of familiarity to some of the movements. Sasuke pressed his hand down on the floor, and the sketched symbols lit up with a sort of glow, an almost intangible vapor. Gaara picked up a strange smell, a little like ozone, like scorched air. Like lightning.

Gaara eyed the whole thing uncertainly, but it was Kyuubi who spoke his thoughts aloud. "And this will fix us?"

Sasuke stared at his creation like he'd never seen it before in his life. He looked up at Kyuubi. "I've never done this before. Not in this life. I only have what I remember."

In other words, he had no _idea_ if this would actually work.

"_Maybe we should have let Kyuubi go first,"_ Shukaku said.

"Alright," Sasuke said after giving the whole setup one last look over. He gestured Gaara to step into the middle of it. "You go there."

Gaara followed Sasuke's direction, moving into the center of the strange design. There was definitely _some_ force at work here; Gaara could feel it, like a whisper of static so close to his skin. The sand that clothed him shifted and hissed, not angrily, but sort of agitated. It was like being able to feel the promise of a thunderstorm on the edge of the horizon.

Sasuke stood behind him. Gaara couldn't see what he was doing, but he could feel the power building. Whether or not Sasuke could do what he said he could, something was definitely going to happen here. When you raised this sort of power, it didn't just diffuse harmlessly if you couldn't get it to do what you wanted. Either the seal would be fixed, or Gaara's internal organs would implode, he was guessing.

"Ready?" Sasuke asked.

Gaara could feel Sasuke's chakra like a rising inferno at his back. He could feel Shukaku's sudden hesitation.

"_Wait,"_ the demon protested.

"Wait-" Gaara tried to voice Shukaku's plea, but the word formed too late.

Sasuke's chakra crashed over Gaara like a tsunami against a cliff. He felt the sand be washed from his body in the force of it, leaving Gaara entirely unprotected from its impersonal wrath.

He shook under its onslaught. Shukaku howled and clawed and choked and _fought_; Gaara wondered if, should someone cut him open right now, they would see wounds left by the demon's claws on his heart.

There was pressure coming to bear all around him. Gaara was trapped in the center of his own personal gravitational force, compressing in on him from all sides, crushing him down into a singularity.

And just when he thought he couldn't be compacted down any farther, something clamped firmly into place, and all sensation was instantly suspended.

Gaara blinked into sudden darkness, sighed, and crumpled to the floor in a heap.

_.x.x.x._

"Gaara?" someone asked insistently, in the sort of tone that suggested they'd said that a half dozen times already, and were three seconds from getting all kinds of freaked out if he didn't answer them soon.

"Muh," Gaara said, trying to convey the feeling of "damn it, stop breathing in my face," with a single word. He must have been successful, because whoever it was moved back instantly.

Gaara opened an eye, and when that didn't kill him, he opened the other one. It was a lot darker in the room than he remembered. A lot duller, too. He could still smell the thick sweetness of incense, but all the other smells were muted to the point of being indistinguishable. The room seemed a fair bit bigger too, but that was probably because he was no longer nine feet tall and covered in sand armor several feet thick. He found himself strangely disappointed about that, too.

Sasuke was sitting next to him, so Gaara was guessing it was his morning breath he'd been smelling a moment before.

"I thought I'd killed you," Sasuke said. Now that Gaara was clearly not dead, Sasuke was doing his level best to appear as though he hadn't been worried about him in the first place. Gaara was oddly touched to see Sasuke wasn't doing such a great job of it.

"Is the seal fixed?" Gaara asked. He spoke out loud, though the one that could truly answer that question was somewhere inside of him…

"_Yeah, yeah," _came Shukaku's grumble. _"I'd forgotten how damned cramped it was in here. It was so nice to just be able to stretch my legs for once…"_

"_Aside from the fact that it was killing both of us," _Gaara pointed out.

"_Well, sure, if you're going to get all glass-is-half-empty about it,"_ the demon answered. He let out a huff. _"Alright, I admit it. I'm glad I'm not dead. And the tiniest bit glad you're not dead, too. Happy?"_

"Ecstatic," Gaara muttered dryly, but he couldn't entirely suppress a smile.

"I'm guessing it worked," Kyuubi said from his end of the room. "I don't smell Shukaku like I did; he's back in his cage?"

"_Yeah, and it's your turn next," _Shukaku muttered.

Gaara wondered if it really was. He wasn't really one to judge this sort of thing, but it must have taken a lot of chakra to seal Shukaku back up. And Shukaku hadn't even been as far gone as Kyuubi was. Sasuke was looking a little bit haggard. Would he even have enough chakra left to fix Kyuubi?

"Just give me a minute," Sasuke said softly, as though he could sense Gaara's question.

Gaara nodded. What Sasuke could or could not do for Kyuubi was his own business now; nothing Gaara did would have any impact on the outcome. And there was another matter he needed to attend to now, perhaps the most important of all.

He moved to the door on the back wall. It had a hidden latch just like the one to get into this room, but this one wasn't locked. He didn't look back at the two behind him- they'd have to take care of themselves for a few minutes. Gaara pulled open the door, and stepped into the cramped gloom.

Neji was beautiful. Gaara couldn't help but pause in the doorway, staring for a long, drawn-out moment, as if it could somehow make up for the interminably long days without Neji's presence. Finally he'd found him, finally he was here with him, and Gaara was frozen in place.

A tremor from the unstable structure above their heads snapped him out of it. He'd be able to look his fill _after_ he managed a proper rescue.

He wove his way around the cramped huddle of machines to Neji's side, and proceeded to unhook and unplug the various mechanisms attached to him. Gaara watched Neji's reactions carefully, in case he woke as suddenly as Sasuke had. But Neji's breathing was even and relaxed; he seemed completely at peace, despite his surroundings.

Gaara was carefully unhooking a particularly wicked little bit of machinery when Neji stirred. Gaara paused, gaze darting to Neji's face. Neji's eyes were open, blearily considering him in the way one does when first awakened.

"Are you a good dream, or a bad dream?" Neji asked softly.

"It's me, Neji," Gaara whispered.

Neji quirked a small smile at that. "Good dream, then."

"I'm not a dream," Gaara said. "It's really me."

"That's what the last three of you said, too," Neji said. He sat up slowly, picking at a few of the things still attached to him. He frowned at them, then at the rest of the equipment. "This wasn't all here, though. Where am I?"

"It's not important," Gaara said. "We're getting you out. Can you stand?"

Neji just looked at him for a long minute, and Gaara didn't press the issue. Like Sasuke, Neji had been deeply imbedded in memories of his past life, by whatever chemical concoction Orochimaru had drugged him up on. He couldn't blame him if Neji was having trouble processing the sudden shift in his perception of reality.

But Neji seemed to come to his senses all at once, sudden remembrance dawning on his features. "Tashimura. He tried to kill you." He closed his eyes, and drew in a shuddery breath. His voice was almost a whisper. "He had a knife, and he was going to kill you."

"He didn't," Gaara assured him quickly. "You saved my life. He almost killed _you._" He couldn't help the hint of anger that colored those last words. He cleared his throat, as if that could somehow clear away the memory of that day. "That doesn't matter now, either. I'm not dead, and neither are you. But we will be, if this house falls down on us."

Neji gave him a look half baffled, half amused. "Exactly what all happened after I was injured?" he asked.

Gaara paused, thinking about everything that had happened over the last few days. The prison, the asylum, the escape. Orochimaru, the poison, the dreams. Breaking the seal. Dying.

"Everything fell apart," Gaara said softly. Impulsively, he hugged Neji to him. Neji was alive, and he was here with him. Relief suffused Gaara, its potency washing away all the stress, anger, and hatred that had permeated this whole ordeal up to now.

"Never leave me," Gaara whispered, his voice muffled as he rested his head on Neji's shoulder. "Never leave me again."

Neji willingly and easily returned the embrace, and it seemed to Gaara that Neji was just as relieved as he was. "Never," Neji agreed, even though they both knew it was not a reasonable promise to make. There was no way to predict what might possibly take one from the other in the future. But right now, Gaara didn't care about being reasonable. He had Neji back and as far as he was concerned, nothing would separate them again.

"_As beautiful as this is,"_ Shukaku said, _"and as fun it would be to watch you have "welcome back" porn on this table, don't you think you ought to get a move on? I already had one near-death experience today, and I'm not interested in having another one."_

Gaara drew back reluctantly. "Shukaku's right," he said, and at Neji's questioning look, elaborated, "We need to go now."

Neji didn't ask and questions, and moved carefully off the table. He was a little unsteady on his feet at first, but it passed quickly, and the two of them made their way out of the room.

They had barely taken a step into the room beyond before they were halted by the storm. The room was full of wind, a sort of glowing wind, blue and red and streaked with lightning. Gaara squinted against it, unable to clearly see the room beyond it. Was this Sasuke's doing? Had this happened before, when Sasuke was fixing Gaara's seal? It seemed too wild, too uncontrolled. Surely this was too much for either Sasuke or Kyuubi to handle-

From the midst of the storm, Gaara could hear voices. Well, more precisely, he could hear howling; Kyuubi. It was the unmistakable sound of agony.

And beyond that, Gaara thought he heard Sasuke.

"Don't you dare, Naruto!" Sasuke shouted. _"Don't you dare die again!"_

The storm died, abruptly. Gaara stood there blinking at the sudden darkness. It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust, and to pick out the two figures in the center of the room. The chalk markings had all been blasted away, as had most of the medical-esque equipment that Gaara had crushed. Kyuubi- or was it Naruto now?- lay in the center of a shallow crater, and Sasuke knelt next to him, clearly exhausted.

There was a groan in the humid silence, and the blond sat up slowly and carefully, as though waking up from a long sleep and finding himself a little stiff. He looked around, and Gaara noted that even in the dark, those eyes were unmistakably blue. "Wow," Naruto said. "That was _wild._"

Sasuke let out a frustrated, and very tired, huff. "Idiot," he muttered.

"Hey," Naruto said, "should you really be insulting me so soon after bringing me back from the dead?"

"You weren't _dead_," Sasuke said sharply.

"Didn't feel that way," Naruto said, an uncharacteristic serious tone in his voice. "Do you know what I've been doing while Kyuubi had run of the place? _Dying_. Reliving that same memory, the memory of my dying moments, over and over and over again."

Gaara thought about that. If Naruto's absence at school had been because Kyuubi had broken the seal, then Naruto had spent _days_ stuck in the same memory loop, an interminable hell of repeating death. How he'd managed to wake up from that with any shred of sanity, even coherency, left was nothing short of miraculous.

"Anyway," Naruto continued, seriousness gone, and a bright smile as per usual taking its place, "it sure is good to be home. And back in the driver's seat, as it were. Guess I've got you to thank for that, Sasuke. So thanks."

Sasuke muttered something and looked away.

Something came to a rocky crash outside in the hallway, making all of them jump. Another few crashes followed shortly after, and the building above them began to shake and groan again. A crack began to split the ceiling from one corner of the room.

"What was that?" Naruto asked. He was looking around the room with frank suspiciousness, as if it had all suddenly appeared there with no warning.

"_That was the sand pillars you made," _Shukaku answered when Gaara silently echoed Naruto's question. _"The sand's out of chakra, so there's nothing left to hold them- and therefore the house- up anymore."_

"_Can't you reinforce them?" _Gaara asked.

"_Look- you wanted me back in the box. Well now I am, and it was a hell of a trip getting it all packed up, too. I'm gonna need a whole lot more recoup time before I can move even one grain of sand, and you're asking me to move a few billion," _Shukaku said. _"You're on your own. Don't let the door fall down and crush you on your way out."_

"Time to go," Gaara told the others shortly. The widening crack in the ceiling, and the fact that the house above had not yet stopped trembling, seemed to provide all the explanation to support that statement.

Naruto seemed to agree wholeheartedly, and was already three strides to the door before he seemed to realize the others were not immediately next to him. He stopped up short, turned and fixed Sasuke, who was still sitting, with an impatient glare.

"Well come _on,_" Naruto said. "I don't think it's safe here."

Sasuke didn't meet his gaze, and said something Gaara didn't catch.

Naruto frowned. "What?"

"I _said,_" Sasuke said clearly, fixing Naruto with a dark look, "that I can't _move_, you idiot!"

It had taken enough of Sasuke's chakra, almost _all_ of it, to fix Gaara and Naruto. Any more, and it might have even killed him. Shukaku had been right; Sasuke might have the Hokage-he-once-was' memories, but he didn't yet have his stamina.

"Huh," Naruto said. "Wore you out, did I?" He stepped back into the crater, and scooped Sasuke off the floor, setting his feet on the ground but keeping an arm around him to hold him upright. Sasuke let out an indignant protest, but since he couldn't walk out of here on his own steam, it seemed he would have to put up with the embarrassment.

"Alright," Naruto said, looking back at Gaara and Neji. "We all ready to go?"

"I don't think the four of you will be going anywhere," a voice from the doorway announced.

The four of them looked as one toward the newest occupant of the room. Soujishi stood blocking the entrance, a gun in one hand, and an excited, not entirely sane gleam in his eye.

"The hell are you doing?" Naruto demanded. "Everything is falling down! Get out of the way!"

"You should have just _died_," Soujishi addressed Gaara. "I put enough poison in that injection Orochimaru gave you to take down a bull elephant. Why don't you ever die like you're supposed to?"

"You poisoned him?" Neji demanded harshly.

Soujishi didn't even look at Neji. "Orochimaru wanted to keep you alive, trapped in your dreaming, for his experiments. But I couldn't let you live, not after what you've done. Orochimaru didn't even ask what I put in the syringe." He quirked a smile. "He trusted me."

"I doubt that," Sasuke said. He looked mad enough to break somebody, but was forced to lean heavily on Naruto just to keep standing. The one-time-Hokage wouldn't be any help now.

"What have I done?" Gaara asked. "Why poison me?"

Soujishi's face twisted with rage, the hand holding the gun shaking, and for a moment Gaara thought Soujishi would actually shoot him. "You know what you did! Tashimura is a wonderful man, and every life you occur in, you _hurt_ him! I found him in that cavern you left him in, that last time. You crushed the life out of him, and snapped his neck just for good measure! Shiten told me to forget it, go on with my life, pretend we'd never been caught up in Tashimura's 'madness.'"

"You should have listened to him," Neji said.

"You shut up!" Soujishi shouted, switching the aim of his gun from Gaara to Neji. "It was _your_ fault Tashimura lost his mind! He was a brilliant shinobi, one of the best, and then _you_ came along and ruined everything! You had to be punished too. All of Suna had to be punished, for letting you in, for supporting their damned precious _Kazekage_. It took me years to cook up the right poison, but you have to admit, the wait was worth it…"

Poison. Suna hadn't been afflicted with a plague; it had been _poison_. "You poisoned Suna," Gaara whispered.

Soujishi practically glowed with pride. "And it worked better than I had even hoped. You died, but first you got to watch everyone you cared about die, watch your village be reduced to sickness and futility, crumbling away around you. I hadn't expected the fox demon to flatten the place afterward, but that was a pretty neat bonus, I must admit."

He took a step forward, leveling the gun at Gaara's heart. "But you just had to come back, and ruin everything again, didn't you?! I tried to warn you off," -that was the note in his locker, the dead raccoon on his doorstep, Gaara guessed- "but you just wouldn't give up! I faked a note from Neji to Tashimura, hoping if I could somehow get them together before you got too deeply involved, you'd back off. Instead you… you…" He shook his head. "I should have known you were too much a monster to have any _sense._"

"_I resent that!"_ Shukaku announced.

"You may be resistant to my poisons," Soujishi said to Gaara softly, "but we'll see how well your demon can protect you from a bullet in your head."

"_Er," _Shukaku hedged. _"Not very well, I can tell you that right now." _And with the sand out of chakra, there would be no help from that quarter, either.

"I'm not going to let you shoot him," Neji said, stepping forward with an unhurried stride. The barrel of the gun was immediately pointed back at him. Gaara reached for Neji, but Neji gently brushed his hand away.

"The monster's lover," Soujishi sneered. "I _should_ shoot you first, shouldn't I?"

"Neji, what are you doing?" Naruto demanded. Gaara had no doubt that Naruto would risk himself for Neji at this point, if he wasn't encumbered by Sasuke. Gaara also knew it probably wouldn't do any good. He took a step forward, fully intending to impose himself between Neji and Soujishi, but Neji insistently blocked his way.

"I'll kill you all, and let the house collapse and bury your corpses," Soujishi said, when Neji was near enough the gun was practically pressed to his chest.

"I don't think you will," Neji said. "I think you should put the gun down now, before you get hurt."

Soujishi gave him a smile rife with evil joy. "No," he said, and pulled the trigger.

The gun clicked.

Neji didn't move.

Soujishi frowned at the weapon in his hand, unable to understand why it had betrayed him. He attempted another shot, and again the gun clicked, ineffectually. Neji reached out, and in quick succession, pressed a half-dozen points on Soujishi's arm. Gaara couldn't imagine those touches were hard enough to hurt, but Soujishi made a pained noise, and his arm seemed to go entirely limp, the gun clattering to the floor.

"I want you to know," Neji said, "that I know a series of pressure points that would shut down enough of your chakra pathways to render you immediately and almost painlessly unconscious. I also don't plan to use them." And with that he hauled off and punched Soujishi square in the face.

The force of the blow knocked Soujishi into a wall, and with a groan, he collapsed on the ground. He didn't get back up.

In Gaara's mind, Shukaku was applauding.

"I- wha-" Naruto managed only sputtering at first. Finally, he managed, "How did you know he didn't have any bullets?"

"He had bullets," Neji said. He picked up the gun, opened the chamber and removed two bullets. "Three empty. He had one more blank shot before I'd have to start dodging." He turned around, and his eyes gleamed in the darkness, a strangely bright iridescence, the way cats' eyes seemed to glow in the dark. There was a tense sort of expression on Neji's face. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them the tension was gone. "It seems the byakugan has a lot of uses."

"I'll bet you're the only person in the world capable of _cheating _at Russian Roulette," Naruto said with some awe in his voice.

"Yeah, fine, yay for him," Sasuke said. "Can we _go now?_"

Naruto half-carried Sasuke out of the room, and at Gaara's direction, headed for the stairs. Despite Shukaku's protests, Gaara lifted Soujishi's limp form, and started dragging him toward the stairs as well.

"Orochimaru's in the next room over," Gaara told Neji. "Should still be unconscious." He didn't like the snake, but they probably shouldn't leave him down here to be crushed when the building finally gave up the ghost. Neji nodded, and went to rescue Orochimaru.

"_Aw, come on," _Shukaku whined. _"After everything he and Soujishi did, you're still going to stick to that whole outdated murdering-people-in-cold-blood-is-morally-and-spiritually-wrong concept? Don't you think we're a little more enlightened than that?" _

"_Soujishi wants me to be a monster," _Gaara replied, a little distracted as he hauled his burden. Soujishi was heavy, damn it. _"What better revenge is there than refusing to validate his delusions?" _

"_Uh, flattening him like a pancake, for starters," _Shukaku answered.

Neji returned to Gaara's side just as they reached the stairs. Orochimaru was not with him. "He wasn't in there," Neji said, as he helped Gaara tow Soujishi up.

Gaara blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he wasn't _there._ The door was locked, but the room was empty," Neji said.

"_Which means he's out there somewhere," _Shukaku said. _"And none of you will be safe until he's dead. I think this is an opportune time for a great big I-told-you-so."_

Gaara let out a gusty sigh. "We'll worry about it later." Maybe he should have killed Orochimaru when he'd had the chance. If he'd been his old self, in that other life, maybe he would have. But Gaara wasn't that person anymore. And he would just have to deal with the consequences of that sometime when they weren't in imminent danger of being squashed by a house.

"This way!" Naruto instructed when Gaara and Neji reached the upper floor.

By this time, the house was caught in the midst of a personal earthquake. There was debris everywhere, and the fridge leaned sideways against a wall. One more good tremor toppled it, and the four of them had to dodge out of the way as it crashed hard enough to break through the floor. The shaking was increasing at a fast rate, and all the walls seemed to be leaning to one side, giving it a sort of peculiar fun-house perspective.

"_Got to say," _Shukaku said, _"when you decide to bring down the house, you don't mess around."_

"I couldn't have done all this," Gaara answered the demon out loud. "I may have messed up the foundations, but it shouldn't bring down a whole building this quickly. Should it?"

"Wouldn't put it past Orochimaru to have this whole place rigged to self-destruct or something if compromised," Sasuke said.

Shukaku made a rude noise. _"Just like the movies. The hide-out always falls apart when the villain is defeated."_

"Old clichés are the always the best," Gaara muttered.

They picked their way out of the kitchen, skirting around the hole the fridge had left. Through the living room and over piles of rubble. Parts of the ceiling in there had fallen in. Out the front door, greeted by a crazy swirl of red and blue lights, and a swarm of people in uniform.

Firefighters, policemen, EMTs and the occasional news crew crowded the street, along with their myriad of vehicles, all of which were flashing their dizzying lights. The four members of the Ninja Club just stood there on the porch, watching the barely controlled chaos swarm forth to engulf them.

Soujishi was taken away for medical aid in one of the ambulances. Gaara, along with the other three, were swept along as well, checked over for injuries (Sasuke insisted he was fine, and didn't want to go to a hospital, despite the fact he didn't have the energy to stand), wrapped up in identical gray blankets, and subjected to a barrage of questions. Why were they in there? Where was the owner of the house? Was anyone else inside? How had Sasuke and Soujishi been injured? What had happened?

"I don't know," Gaara found himself repeating, over and over. "I don't know."

The house gave one last great quake, as the last of its foundations collapsed, and the upper floors crashed down into the basement, probably destroying any remaining evidence of Orochimaru's experimentation. Gaara couldn't quite bring himself to care.

There was noise and color and frantic people rushing to and fro all around them, and somehow, the Ninja Club found a small island of calm in the middle of it all in which to wait it out. None of them had much to say at first, as they watched everyone run around trying to figure out what all had gone on in that house. Gaara didn't think any one of those scurrying people would ever know the truth.

There were only six people in the world who knew what had really gone on in that house that night. One was missing, one was unconscious, and the other four weren't telling.

"So," Sasuke finally spoke up. "What happens now?"

"We're gonna need a new advisor for our club," Naruto answered.

And for some reason, after everything that had happened that night, all of the tension and fury and fear, Gaara found Naruto's simple answer to be supremely funny. The other three all gave him a startled look when he started to laugh, but Gaara just shook his head and laughed harder. Naruto seemed to get the joke, then, and started laughing as well. Then they were all laughing, sitting there in the middle of the street, surrounded by cops and firemen and gawkers and reporters, laughing until their sides ached, even though it hadn't even been that _funny._ Except, somehow, it just was.

When all the laughter had died away, Gaara took the first stress-free breath that he'd had in a long time. There were still a few things that he'd still need to worry about, he reflected as a white van with the words "Alecander Memorial Asylum for Boys" on the side joined the crush of other vehicles on the street. But strangely enough, Gaara had the feeling that everything was going to work out fine.

And when the men in the white coats had herded Gaara and Naruto into the white van, and Gaara looked out the window to see Neji watching him, smiling reassuringly, that feeling became a certainty.

_.x.x.x._

"Due to lack of evidence of your involvement," Officer Zabuza informed Gaara, "as well as a crapload of complex circumstances that no one's been able to detangle yet, all charges against you have been dropped."

Gaara just looked at him. After being picked up from the whole debacle at Orochimaru's house, Gaara had been returned to his painfully white room at the asylum. No one had administered any anti-psychotic meds to him, due to the trace remains of whatever Orochimaru had drugged him up with left in his bloodstream. Gaara was grateful for the lack of pills and injections, deciding he'd had more than enough of mind-altering solutions for one lifetime.

And now it looked like there would be no jail time in his future, either. "What do you mean, lack of evidence?" Gaara asked. They had his signed confession- sort of- and Soujishi's testimonial as a witness.

"We looked that classroom over top to bottom, ran every kind of simulation we could think of, bagged everything that wasn't nailed down as a possible clue, and not a single one of our experts can figure out how a scrawny _kid_ could cause that kind of damage to Tashimura. And if we can't prove how you did it, then we don't have a case." Zabuza shrugged. "Plus, your confession kind of gets thrown out on account of you being not right in the head. I can smell a verdict of not-guilty-by-reason-of-mental-disease-or-defect coming from a mile away. Though I hear you'll be getting out of here soon. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Gaara said, and he meant it.

Temari and Kanuro had been frantic when they found out about Gaara's not-so-little adventure. The two of them alternated yelling at him for over an hour. Gaara had just sat there and let them, trying very hard not to smile, because he finally perceived something that went unsaid under all of that anger. They had been frightened- not of him, but _for_ him. They cared about him, loved him enough that the fear that he may have come to harm, and their inability to protect him from it, had driven them to overprotective anger.

Dr. Iira had come up with an all new shopping list of medications she wanted to try on Gaara. After all that Gaara had gone through, the good doctor seemed to think "very thorough examination would be necessary to determine the long-term effects, as well as a prolonged period of study on Gaara's mental well-being." Kankuro had asked what exactly all of that meant, and Dr. Iira had replied that it would be necessary to keep Gaara as a resident of his cushy padded room- with no contact with the outside world, including Temari and Kankuro- for no less than a year or two.

Gaara's older siblings had shared a _look_, before Temari had informed Dr. Iira in no uncertain terms that "you can take your prolonged period of study and cram it up your ass."

Then she requested (somewhat more politely, though not by much) that Gaara please be transferred to a more competent psychiatrist.

Gaara felt like applauding.

And that was how Gaara had ended up with Dr. Haku as his primary therapist. Gaara _still_ couldn't tell if Dr. Haku really believed him about Shukaku and his past life and the sand, or if he was just humoring him, and at first it was very hard to break his habit of not giving out information to psychiatrists. But somehow, through some combination of Dr. Haku's serene acceptance of Gaara's strangeness, and probably some deep-seated need of Gaara's to tell _someone_ the truth about what had happened at Orochimaru's, they ended up spending almost an entire day talking.

Dr. Haku finally ended the session by throwing out all of Dr. Iira's diagnosis, and declaring that most of Gaara's perceived "mental illness" was due to trauma inflicted upon him by his mother in his earliest developmental years, grossly aggravated by the harsh chemical cocktail of medication he'd been fed over the course of his life, lack of sleep, and a poor diet. He suggested to Temari that she provide Gaara with vitamin supplements, and have Gaara come by for therapy sessions three nights a week.

Gaara didn't know how much of that bogus diagnosis Temari and Kankuro actually believed, but they seemed happy enough that they wouldn't have to try and force Gaara to take any more anti-psychotic meds.

It was also by Dr. Haku's recommendation that Gaara was going to be allowed to go home, and return to school. The doctor still insisted that basic human interaction would be needed to facilitate Gaara's recovery. And with that professional opinion, coupled with having all charges of assault dropped (and the fact that the investigating officer on Gaara's case seemed to have a crush on Dr. Haku), Gaara was getting a second chance at life outside of the asylum, the Ninja Club, and Neji.

It was by no means a seamless transition back into that mundane routine, as could only be expected. Gaara's first day back at school was a barrage of rumor, accusation and fear, most of it only on the edge of his awareness, never presented directly to his face. Of course by now everyone in the school knew what had happened to Tashimura, though no one had the full story. Some of the rumors insisted it had been Tashimura to attack Neji while Gaara had only defended him, some said Gaara had attacked the other two unprovoked, while some got the story completely convoluted and insisted it had been Orochimaru that had staged the attack.

There were a great many rumors going around about _him_ too, saying Orochimaru had been using his career as a teacher to gain access to the student body, and had been conducting violent and traumatizing experiments on an unlucky few, and that the Ninja Club had only been the most recent test subjects…

Since nobody knew for sure what Gaara's role in all of the excitement had been, they finally all decided it was wise to keep as much distance between themselves and him as possible. Since Gaara had never been in a mood to deal with any of them either, the unspoken, uneasy truce suited him just fine.

The day after Gaara came back to school, so did Sasuke. That caused a whole new stir among the students, mostly the girls. But their excitement quickly became dismay, when it turned out Sasuke intended to spend all his free time between classes and during lunch in the company of the other members of the Ninja Club. Naruto and Neji had returned to school before Gaara had, and no one was sure of their footing with them, either. Exactly what did one say to a person who had been locked in a basement by a madman and subjected to experimentation best left unmentioned?

Therefore, whenever one of Sasuke's rampant fans got too close, they were greeted by Naruto's best look of "I'm a _crazy _little shit, aren't I?", Neji's forbidding imperiousness, and Gaara's blatantly murderous expression. At which point the person in question tended to remember a pressing need to be _elsewhere_, and quick. Eventually, Sasuke's fans just decided it would be easier to leave him alone. Sasuke would never outright _say_ that the three of them were the best friends he'd ever have, but they took that as a given.

And so it was that the Ninja Club met up one perfectly unremarkable morning before school in the greenhouse. All of the school knew of their penchant for meeting there now, but no one ever bothered them there, and the powers-that-be in the school seemed content to let them use it so long as they didn't disrupt or damage any of the projects stored there by the Botany class.

"They're still trying to find a new Gym teacher," Naruto reported that morning upon arriving. He was the third one to get there. "Shame that Shiten-sensei had to quit. I mean, the school lost two teachers already. I know Tashimura and Orochimaru were crazy and everything, but Shiten-sensei wasn't. Right?"

"He didn't have to quit," Gaara said. "He chose to." It seemed that since Tashimura was unable to return to his teaching position, Shiten-sensei decided to take the opportunity to retire, as well. "I can't say I'm sorry to see him go, either. I know, in the end, who his loyalties belong to."

"And speaking of loyalties," Neji added, "how fares Soujishi?"

Naruto shook his head. "Still in isolation, last I heard. The nurses all talk about how he keeps ranting about past lives, and raccoon demons, and sand that moves on its own and tears down buildings. Dr. Iira seems to think she can cure it by locking Soujishi in a box and medicating him until he pisses milk."

Gaara nodded, satisfied. "Good."

The greenhouse door opened, as the fourth member of the club arrived. Sasuke was carrying a large, and apparently heavy, cardboard box, which he sent down on the concrete floor of the greenhouse with a _whump_.

"Ooh, presents!" Naruto immediately exclaimed, reaching for it.

Sasuke smacked his hand away. "Not for you. It was delivered to my house, but apparently it's for Gaara."

Gaara blinked, studying the innocuous box. It had an envelope taped to the top of it, which did indeed have his name on it, but Sasuke's address. He reached for it, but Neji forestalled him.

"It could be dangerous," Neji said.

"I carried it all the way here," Sasuke said. "I think if it had a bomb in it, I'd have found that out already."

"Suddenly and violently and all over the place," Naruto added helpfully.

Neji ignored that, focusing his byakugan on the box. Gaara watched, not the box, but Neji; he found it inexplicably entrancing when Neji used that particular skill. After a second, Neji set back and blinked the byakugan away, a hint of surprise showing on his face.

"So?" Naruto demanded. "Is it dangerous?"

"Yes," was all Neji said. He reached for the box, and set it closer to Gaara. "Open the box. I think the envelope is for Sasuke, though."

Gaara pulled off the envelope, handing it over to Sasuke, and tore open the box. Inside, filled to the brim, was sand. His sand. The sand he'd had to leave behind when Orochimaru's house had collapsed. He slid his hand into it, and it shifted slowly, like an animal coming awake, and it purred.

"But where'd it come from?" Naruto wondered aloud. "Who sent it?"

"_Who do you think?"_ Shukaku asked. _"Who, besides the four of us, would know what the sand means, where to find it, and who to send it to?"_

Sasuke ripped open the envelope. Inside were two pieces of paper. One was a drawing of the sixth Hokage, Sasuke in another life; the torn out piece that had been missing from the portrait in the book, "A Brief History of the Hidden Villages."

The second was a photograph, apparently a candid shot, of Sasuke and a boy of definite resemblance, apparently not much older. On the back of the photo was written a short note;

"I can offer you no proof, but Itachi's death was not your fault. Believe me, or not, however you wish. And you shouldn't trust everything you read in books. I look forward to seeing how you live this life, Hokage-sama."

It was signed, "O. Sannin."

"Orochimaru isn't dead," Gaara commented, needlessly. Of course he wasn't. Orochimaru had gotten out of the house, hadn't he? Still, a part of Gaara had wondered…

"Damn it!" Naruto raged. "What does it take to get rid of that guy?"

"We'll probably never know," Neji said.

Sasuke still hadn't looked up from the scraps in his hands. Naruto looked over at him with worry, reaching over and plucking the two papers from Sasuke's unresisting grasp.

"Hey," Naruto demanded. "You gonna be okay?"

Sasuke looked at him, seeming not to see him. And then he… relaxed, was the only word for it. Some measure of tension Gaara hadn't even noticed Sasuke carried with him always suddenly loosened, and Sasuke managed a small almost-smile at Naruto.

"Yeah," Sasuke said. "Yeah, I think so. I don't think Orochimaru is coming back. Not in this lifetime, anyway."

"You don't think he's given up though, do you," Neji said.

"No, we'll be seeing him again. Some future incarnation of us will, at any rate. But for this lifetime… I believe we've called a truce," Sasuke said.

"Uh, good. Glad to hear it. I think," Naruto said. "Why would he do that?"

Sasuke just shrugged, taking back the two pictures and tucking them carefully into his backpack. "We should get going. Class starts in two minutes."

"Yeah, okay," Naruto agreed, grabbing his own backpack and slinging it on with more enthusiasm than it needed. "Guess I'll be bodyguarding 'Hokage-sama' on his walk to class then, huh? After you, then."

Sasuke just rolled his eyes and headed for the greenhouse exit, but Gaara caught another glimpse of that almost-a-smile Naruto seemed to be graced with more and more these days. And despite his words, Naruto's grin was big enough for the both of them.

Naruto waved their goodbyes to Neji and Gaara as he and Sasuke took their leave. Gaara turned his attention to coaxing the sand from the box into his backpack. It was good to have it back; he'd missed it more than he'd be willing to admit.

"_I'm willing to admit it!" _Shukaku announced. _"I was thinking I'd go stir-crazy in here without the sand here to help act out a few of my more aggressive tendencies. It's cathartic, you know?"_

"_Murder isn't supposed to be cathartic," _Gaara pointed out.

"_Then you're not doing it right," _Shukaku insisted.

Gaara ignored that, asking Neji instead, "Do you really think Orochimaru will leave us alone for this lifetime?"

"It's hard to say," Neji replied, reaching for his own school bag. "Sasuke sure thinks so, and I suppose I'm inclined to agree. After all, it would be hard to pull the same tricks on us again in this life. Far easier to wait until our next reincarnation, when none of us would remember him."

"I might not even be there in the next lifetime," Gaara said, solemnly enough that Neji looked at him. "I've missed so many of your lifetimes, Neji. So many times you reincarnated, and I wasn't there. I may not be there the next time."

"Then I'll wait," Neji said.

"And if I'm still not there? In the life after that, or the one after that?" Gaara pressed.

"I'll wait," Neji said, and that was that. "But you know, there really isn't any use in worrying what might happen in other lifetimes. After all, we still have all of _this_ life to live."

Neji stood, reaching out to help Gaara up as well. Gaara smiled, and took his hand.

And what a life it would be, too.


	24. Epilogue: Retest

_Several lifetimes later…_

_.x.x.x._

All the world, for as far as he could see, was wind and sand and unrelenting fury. Gaara stood at the center of a whirling sandstorm, but untouched by its screaming presence. He knew it should hurt, knew the sand should sting his flesh and scour it raw, but he felt nothing. The desert sun was high above him, searing down at the sandy world, but Gaara could not feel that either. All he felt was cold.

Gaara moved forward, and the sand swept along with him, battering around him as though to drive him back, but feinting away at the last moment, never touching. The sandstorm cloaked his world, cocooning him, protecting him and holding him prisoner. Still Gaara pressed forward, striving for the desert beyond him, a barren world of which he caught only glimpses. There were bodies laid out on the golden hills of the desert, but they were mercurial, barely more than shades, and they shimmered away like a teasing mirage within moments of being sighted. Though Gaara could never explain it, it felt as though somehow… he'd been forgiven for something.

And then the sand fell slowly away, and swept the desert away with it. In the mutable nature of this place, Gaara found himself elsewhere. No longer soft desert sand beneath his feet, but smooth hardwood floor, well scuffed by sneakers. Bright crepe streamers in school colors did little to disguise the basketball hoops, and clusters of matching balloons clumped around the ceiling. Gaara walked through the gym slowly, stepping around the folding chairs and tables grouped around the edges of the room. In the center of it all was a space clear of everything, and Gaara stood there, watching colored lights spin lazily over the silent tableau.

He knew the exact moment when he was no longer alone. Gaara turned slowly, to meet the one that had come to join him. Watching Gaara silently, _he _stood there, elegant and ethereal. His hair was long and unbound, the color of dark chocolate. His skin, in contrast, was pale, fragile-seeming. And his eyes were some indeterminate color, sometimes a pale lavender, sometimes silver, a shifting spectrum of icy colors. Despite the icy gaze, Gaara felt some of the coldness inside of himself give way to tentative warmth.

He smiled at Gaara, and spoke, though Gaara could not perceive the words. He held out his hand to Gaara, and Gaara took it with no hesitation. There was no music, and yet Gaara hardly noticed its lack, as the two of them drew into a slow dance. And then…

_.x.x.x._

The dream ended there, as it always did. Gaara became aware of the musical chime of the alarm clock. That tone had been specifically designed to draw a person out of sleep gently, without startling them awake. Gaara smacked the silence button with force anyway, and the clock made a gentle, almost apologetic chirp of acknowledgement before retracting back into the wall. The sensors detected his waking patterns, and the lighting in the room rose accordingly.

And so another day began with the dream, as it always had. It was a peculiar sort of dream, the stuff of hardy imagination, for Gaara had never seen either a desert or a gymnasium in person before in his life, only depicted images in the holo-vids his siblings always watched. And he had certainly never met _him_, the man of his dream. And yet the visions persisted.

Gaara sat up, glancing to the computer console fitted flush into the wall at his right. A small green light blinked among its nest of gadgetry; the DreamCam 450 had been recording through the night, and Gaara had no doubt it had already compiled, labeled, and filed away the footage of that night's dream with all the others. Gaara felt no need to check it; the dreams were all the same. Though considered an anomaly by the nature of the human mind to dream the exact same thing night after night, Gaara took a measure of comfort from its unusual consistency.

Sometimes he felt the dream might be the only worthwhile thing in his life.

He reached for the computer console, and its sensors detected the movement. Automatically, the slim keyboard and control panel slid out from its compartment, positioning in front of him for ease of access. Gaara typed in his password, a few quick override codes, and a command to erase all of that week's recordings from the DreamCam.

He didn't think his most recent team of analysts would be able to decipher the dream any better than the last ones had, but still, Gaara had long preferred to keep the dream private. Temari would scold him for deleting the footage, but even she would be unable to decrypt his programs and recover the erased data. He didn't care; the psych-analysts had no right to go poking through his mind, even if it was only a recording.

_They_ would be polite and professional about it, even though Gaara knew he frustrated them with his endless resistance to their studies. He was a fascinating character study from a scientific standpoint, but Gaara had a severe aversion to becoming someone's experiment. And for the moment, there was nothing they could do about it.

Like most people, Gaara had gone through the series of vaccinations and brain scans required for children, in order to assure they would grow up into healthy, productive members of society. Gaara was told these scans could pick up ninety-nine-point-seven percent of the chemical imbalances and brain abnormalities that led to or indicated mental disorders; Gaara had none of the typical markers. According to his medical report, encoded along with all of his other data in the microchip embedded in his wrist, Gaara was in perfect mental as well as physical health.

And so as excited as the psych-analysts would be to lock him in a room, reduce him to his basic components and figure out just _why_ he fooled all of their high-tech equipment into thinking he was normal, current law insisted Gaara was to be left alone unless his disorder was something they could _quantify_.

Or unless he killed someone.

"_And that," _whispered a dark, wickedly gleeful voice in his mind, _"is only a matter of time."_

Gaara grit his teeth and pretended not to hear it. So the voice was awake as well. A voice that, as far as Gaara could tell, was the only symptom of this strange affliction of his, the one undetectable by the most advanced of medical scans. A voice that delighted in the pain and misery of others; more specifically, in _causing_ the pain and misery of others. A voice that called itself "Shukaku."

"…'_affliction,'" _Shukaku mockingly quoted. _"Is that all I am to you? I'm hurt, Gaara, really hurt. Here I thought we meant so much more to one another…"_

"You know exactly what you _mean_ to me," Gaara muttered, and regretted speaking immediately; he tried very hard not to acknowledge the voice in any way, ever. Somehow, Shukaku always managed to goad a response from him, anyway.

"_You know you can't ignore me, Gaara,"_ the voice continued, in a tone suggesting that Gaara was being hopelessly obtuse for even trying.

The voice was right, of course, and that made it so much worse. Gaara _couldn't_ ignore Shukaku. Perhaps it was just that his will power wasn't strong enough. Or maybe it was more than that; maybe the very nature of his mental disorder prevented him from resisting the insistence of the voice it had created. Gaara didn't know, and if he were being honest with himself (which he tried to do as little as possible) he didn't really care. It didn't matter if it was a personal weakness or something worse that led to his inevitable breakdowns. He couldn't stop them either way. And so things just got worse…

The first time, everyone assumed it was an accident. Gaara had only been five years old, and couldn't possibly have known that mixing the chemical cleansers he'd found under the sink would produce a potentially deadly gas. Luckily the life support and environmental functions of their home had detected the gas and sounded the alarm before anyone suffered irreparable respiratory damage. Gaara had been scolded thoroughly for playing with the cleaners, the child-locks were upgraded on the cupboard, and that was that. Except that _hadn't_ been that…

The second incident could still have been an accident, but it made everyone a little uneasy. Gaara was only six, after all, and he really shouldn't know _where_ the brake line on the car was, much less how to cut it. And it could have just been coincidence that the alarm, the one that should have gone off when the car's optimal functions were compromised, had been disabled. It was a good thing all vehicles were built with extra safety features for the unlikely event that the driver wrapped the car around a tree…

But by the third time, when Gaara was seven, it was no longer possible to make excuses for his behavior. No one knew where Gaara had gotten a hold of the tazer, or how he'd managed to sneak it past the school's security scanners. What everyone did know was that a mechanism that had been designed to deliver enough voltage to disable a fully-grown man was _not_ meant to be used, repeatedly, on a six-year-old classmate. Gaara never did find out if the boy came out of his coma.

That was the first time his family had packed up and moved. But not the last.

Because everywhere they moved to, Shukaku came with. And though the voice grumbled quite a bit over how everything in this day and age had so many damned _safety protocols _to prevent injury, always Shukaku found some way around those protections, and someone would get hurt. There were fires, and explosions, and electrocutions, and a few near-asphyxiations. Critical injuries, though no deaths by some miracle. But Shukaku kept hoping. And kept _trying._

And so Gaara's family kept moving. Always one step ahead of those that would see Gaara punished for the havoc he wrought.

Sometimes he wished they would just catch up already.

They'd just moved to this new town at the end of the summer. Gaara had a whole new team of psych-analysts to study his every move and make wildly overblown diagnosis based on whether he chose Cheerios or Pop Tarts for breakfast. Temari had made her obligatory, "And this time we'll start over _right,_" speech, doing her best to put on an optimistic front even though she wouldn't even unpack her suitcase for the first two months in their new house. Kankuro, as usual, spent as much time as he could plugged into his video-game system, preferring to give his mind up to computerized alternate realities than face the fact that Gaara was his brother. And Gaara… was but a mere hour away from his first day in yet another new school.

_.x.x.x._

Not that there was anything really _new_ about it, Gaara reflected as he pushed his way though the overcrowded halls of the school. All the schools he'd ever been to looked the same. Not just similar; _exactly_ the same. They had, of course, all been built from the exact same plans, all up to the proper codes and compliant with the Educational Facility Requirements. After all, it was important that no building in which children spent their developmental years portray any hint of character, personality, or décor that could in some way be detrimental or influencing to their tender developing minds.

All Gaara knew was that it was really damned weird to walk down the exact same hallway in seven different cities. You shouldn't pull that kind of shit on a crazy person.

At least the faces were different, even if their attitude toward Gaara never changed, no matter how many times he moved. He could see it, as he walked toward his assigned locker. He was the new face in the crowd, but everyone's eyes scanned past him, hardly even noting his brief occupation in their line of sight. They had their own friends, their own pre-established lives, their own plans for the future. Gaara had none of that.

"_Hey,"_ Shukaku said. _"At least you've got me."_

"_You're not what I'd call 'fair compensation',"_ Gaara pointed out, once more slipping in his eternal devotion to ignoring the voice in his head.

"_I'm worth more than you know," _the voice taunted back. _"Who else do you know with my encyclopedic knowledge of every method to kill a person known to man? There have been evil dictators all throughout history that would have _killed_ for half of what I know."_

"_Wouldn't that have kind of defeated the purpose?" _Gaara wondered.

Shukaku didn't get it. _"Huh?"_

"_If they would have killed in order to learn how to kill- oh, never mind. Why am I even talking to you?"_

"_Face it; you may hate me, but I'm the closest thing to a friend you have," _Shukaku said proudly.

Gaara groaned. "I should have been smothered at birth."

He'd said that out loud, earning a few bizarre looks from the other students moving through the hall around him. He ignored them. His first period class out to be right up here on the left…

Intent on finding their way to their own class, another student brushed past Gaara, heading toward one of the side halls. Gaara wouldn't have spared him any more thought than he would to anyone else, except there had been something about him. Gaara turned to look…

… and froze in his tracks.

It wasn't any more than a glimpse, and Gaara could hardly be sure he really saw it, if he didn't know those features so very well. Hair unbound, the color of dark chocolate. Pale skin, in stunning contrast. And eyes of indeterminate color, sometimes pale lavender, sometimes silver.

Gaara stood in the middle of the hall, heedless of any others around him, staring at the point where the man of his dreams had disappeared into the crowd.

"_Shukaku?" _Gaara asked at last, addressing the voice in his head voluntarily for the first time in his life. _"Is it just me, or do you get the feeling that we've… done all of this sometime before?"_

"_It's just you,"_ Shukaku assured him blithely. _"You're probably just imagining things." _

_.x.x.x._

_It is the nature of insanity to repeat the same actions, and expect to get different results._

_The End._


End file.
